


Skeleton Babbles

by SansyFresh



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fontcest, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 01:42:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 65
Words: 46,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10652352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SansyFresh/pseuds/SansyFresh
Summary: Just random ficlets from my strange mind. Includes multiple ships and AU tropes.





	1. Appeal (Bledgeup)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is where I'm going to post literally whatever. Ships aren't restricted to just Fontcest, its literally whatever gets posted, gets posted lol
> 
> On another note, I am working on my other fics, including an older one that's been on hiatus for way too long. Updates will be slower, however, sorry about that.
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter Tags: Bledgeup, Victorian Era, Master/Servant, Pre-relationship, Request to be a prostitute

Sans awoke as a small alarm clock, antique in nature, chimed lightly on his bedside table. He yawned, stretching slowly as he began to sit up. He could still feel the slight kinks in his spine from the last week of work, his requested two days off spent sleeping and healing from what he would consider to be  _ bone-breaking  _ work. He smirked, though he didn’t dare say it out loud, his employer had ways of hearing his every word. As unsettling as that was, Sans didn’t really mind; there were many more things he would have to be afraid of, if he was not a servant for his Lord Fell. 

 

A single glance to the clock told him that if he did not hurry along his preparations for the morning, he would be late. Tardiness was harshly punished, even if not by the Master himself. No, it was Lord Fell’s older brother that doled out the discipline to the servants of the house. Sans got along fine with Red himself under normal circumstances, but he wasn’t keen on pushing his luck with disobeying the house rules after being granted time off. 

 

Once his simple white shirt, trousers, and black coat jacket were neatly in place, Sans slipped on his house shoes and made his bed, then hurried out the door to his private quarters, locking it swiftly behind him. He scurried down the halls of the vast mansion, the brothers Aster well off in the absence of their father. He didn’t know the man himself, Red having hired him well after their father had...disappeared. To be completely honest, Sans didn’t care to know the history of the brother’s relationship. He was perfectly content to do his job and earn his keep, even if most of the money he made didn’t actually benefit him in any way.

 

Sans huffed a little as he pushed through the swinging door that lead to the master kitchen, one of the head chefs looking up with a small smile as they placed the last of the food on the trays that Sans was to deliver to Fell and Red in their quarters. Sans looked over the ensemble of choices for the day and nodded his thanks to the chef before placing the silver lid over top and carefully taking hold of the tray with both hands, using his pelvis to bop the door open.

 

Another long walk down several halls lead him to the study, where the two brothers typically took their meals if they were not utilizing the dining room. Sans had not been told otherwise, and so went on his usual route, tray balanced carefully as he went. Spilling any of it would not only come out of his pay, but he would have to clean it up himself.

 

Sans finally arrived at the marked wooden door, the family crest emblazoned over the frame. He stepped twice on the small device used for knocking if a servant had their hands full, the knocks loud enough to be heard but not obnoxious enough to be taken as disrespectful. Footsteps, light and with purpose made their way to the door, Red opening it with a glance of suspicion before his face softened. Sans nodded in deference as the other held the door open wide enough for him to enter, making his way to the table they always sat at, silent as he went.

 

“Ah, this is one of our head butlers, Master Serif.” Sans looked up at the sudden address of Lord Fell, who was indeed sitting in his normal spot at the far end of the table. Red was seated on his right side, having returned from giving Sans entrance to the room; there was nothing different there. No, what was different here was the two other skeletons Sans had never seen before seated at the other end of the table. Ah. Well, that would explain the ridiculous amount of food the brothers had ordered. Sans nodded in respect to what looked to be two Lords of a nearby region; the differing colors of their clothing told more to the casual observer than an actual conversation would have.

 

Having served the four skeletons, Sans looked to Red, who was usually the one to dismiss him to begin the rest of his chores for the day. Instead, Red turned his gaze to Fell, who had not yet begun eating. Dark crimson eyelights were then trained upon him, giving him a sinking feeling deep in his soul. Sans could feel himself sweat at the look, wondering if he had done something wrong that he was unaware of. 

 

“This is Lord Pyrus and his brother Skye. They have come for a week long visit to discuss trades.” Fell said simply, his voice monotone and betraying nothing. Why he was telling Sans this, however, the smaller was still not entirely certain. He nodded that he understood, feeling a little relieved as Fell seemed to be pleased with his response. “They have also come to see after obtaining a servant of the...sexual nature.” Fell glanced up and down his small frame quickly, making it more than apparent who they were considering.

 

Sans would have choked at his Lord’s blunt words if he hadn’t been a bit used to it. Neither of the brothers exactly cared for such intricacies of decorum. No, what caused his mind to stop every process in a single swoop was the idea his employer was presenting. These two skeletons he had never met wanted him to be their whore? He was aware his eyelights must have gone out in his shock, as all four present seemed to shift uncomfortably in their seats.

 

He blinked, directing his look of discomfort ( _ disgust _ ) to Red, who seemed unsurprised by his reaction. “You, of course, do not have to agree to this arrangement. It is completely up to you.” Red’s tone told Sans that neither of the brothers had really even entertained the idea that he would be interested in something of that nature. Sans was grateful; some masters were not as gracious.

 

“If it is all the same to you, m’lords, the idea is not one that appeals.” Sans bowed respectfully to the visiting Lords, not catching the look of relief on his masters’ faces.

  
“You may attend your other duties, Master Serif.” Fell dismissed him simply, something Sans was grateful for as he bowed once more and left the room as quickly as could still be considered polite. This was a strange day indeed.


	2. Pizza (Lust Papyrus/Reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where fics go to die. I told you guys this would get weird af.
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter tags: Papyrus/Reader, Underlust, On the Surface, Slice of Life, Not Smut, Pre-Relationship, Ace Reader

You were getting together the last of the ingredients when your front door burst open, the skeleton you had been expecting right about now apologetically shutting it behind him before running into the kitchen, rocking back and forth on his heels.

 

“Hello Y/N!” Papyrus yells; though he’s not near as loud now as he was when you first met. You smile to him, waving a little before handing him the paper you printed that has the recipe for today’s masterpiece. While he reads it, you give his clothing a cursory look. Papyrus is one of the most fashionable people you know, more likely than not because of his friendship with Mettaton. Today he seems to have gone with a black leather jacket, a simple white undershirt, tight leggings, and a bright pink infinity scarf to complete the look. You nod to yourself; he’s learning.

 

Most of the monsters that came from the Underground were exactly like people that lived on the Surface, as they called it. You didn’t want to call them whores, but sex was on the mind of most everyday people; monsters simply added a unique and exotic factor. They were accepted rather quickly, only the most jaded humans attempting to call for their banishment back under the mountain. Those voices were quelled rather quickly, which satisfied you. Humans could be cruel.

 

You, however, were not as interested in sex as most of your kind. It was something you had gotten used to, the culture of showing as much skin as possible in hopes of acquiring a lay. When you had met Pap for the first time, he was no different, sporting a very revealing, bone-tight outfit that accentuated the brightly hued ecto-torso he had. When you had rebuffed his attempts to seduce you, the tall skeleton had become confused and curious. Most humans he had met were more than happy to spend the night with him.

 

You had explained that you were not most humans, and did not desire to have sex with someone you didn’t know (or, really, at all, but you weren't prepared to explain asexuality). Papyrus had then made it his goal to know you better, and along the way the two of you had become fairly good friends. Papyrus quickly figured out that his more...sensual outfits made you uncomfortable, and so went to MTT for advice on outfit to wear. With how sharply dressed he was today, you’d have to send the robot a thank you gift.

 

“Y/n? What is pizza, exactly?” You look over to find that no, the poor sinnamon roll isn’t joking. You sigh and shake your head, taking back the paper and smiling.

 

“Let’s make it and you’ll see.” Your voice is soft from disuse, but Paps has never minded. He nods cheerfully and goes about, gathering all the cooking utensils needed. You watch him, wishing you had that much energy. He really is a strange friend, but you love him anyways.

 

~.~

 

“This is fantastic, almost better than spaghetti!” You nod as you eat your own piece of homemade pizza, the crust thick and the toppings plentiful. It makes more of a mess than freezer pizza, but damn if it isn’t worth it. “I’ll have to take some home for Sans!” He continues, only to frown as you look up, eyes wide as you shake your head.

 

“Sans won’t want any, Paps. Trust me, he’ll just waste it.” Papyrus frowns, looking away, and you almost feel bad. Papyrus’ older brother Sans was a chill guy for the most part, but after you and Paps had started meeting up on the regular, he had let you know in no uncertain term that he hated you. Papyrus had given him something you had cooked for them both once and all you could do was watch as he threw it away, keeping eye contact with you the entire time.

 

You didn’t know what you had done to upset him so much, but to be completely honest you just stayed away from him for the most part. Even when you knew Papyrus wanted the two of you to get along. 

 

Pap continues eating, but you can see that he’s disappointed, at the very least. You can only stand it for a few minutes before you concede.

 

“Just...make sure he doesn’t just throw it away?” You might as well be whispering, but Papyrus still hears you if the sudden arms wrapped around you says anything.

  
“Don’t worry, friend! I will make certain he eats every bite, even if I have to feed it to him myself!” You’d find that a bit of an overkill if it wasn’t Paps. You smile, continuing to eat your own pizza, and hum at the flavor. You really do love pizza. You don’t notice, however, that Paps get’s a rather fetching pink blush over his skull at the pleased look on your face.


	3. Soulling (Stretch/Slim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shrugs*
> 
>    
> Chapter tags: Marmalade (Stretch/Slim), Pre-Relationship, Skelepreg, Reference to Sexy Times, No Smut, Stretch is a nervous mom, Sans is there to give advice

Stretch stood ramrod straight, his spine for once in perfect alignment with the rest of his frame. His eyelights were locked to the mirror, trembling in his sockets as he took in the sight just below his sternum. WIth the lights off, the golden light from his conjured ecto-belly filled the room in a soft glow. It was the dark orange soul that rested within the magic, however, that drew his attention. Damn it...this was definitely nowhere in his plans for the foreseeable future. He let out a shaky breath, his knees feeling weak below him. Hands shot out to grab the edge of the sink, their owner a bit scared he might fall over if not for the support.

 

How in the fuck was he supposed to handle this? He knew just from the color of the souling who the father was; it wasn’t like he had slept with anyone else recently enough to make it a hard deduction. But he and Slim were...complicated. They weren’t even in a relationship, they sure as hell weren’t ready to be parents. Stretch looked away from the soul, eyelights focusing on their reflection. 

 

“What am I supposed to do?” It was useless to ask his damn reflection, but as for this moment it was kinda the only person he had to talk to. Blue wasn’t in this universe, staying with Red over in Underfell now that they had reached the Surface. Fell and Razz were wherever the two disappeared to for a month at a time; more likely than not still believing they had everyone fooled as to whether they were dating or not. Slim was also a no-go, for obvious reasons. 

 

Stretch straightened up, grabbing his sweatshirt back of the back of the toilet, deciding that taking a shower could wait till later. He was a damn skeleton, it wasn’t like they were overly dirty in the first place. He made his way to the living room of the apartment he had been sharing with his brother, flopping on the couch and rubbing his face. Who could he talk to that wouldn’t immediately go tell Slim? Stretch grabbed his phone and began flipping through his contacts, before his eyelights settled on a name. Sure, the asshole would give him a stern “talking to” for getting pregnant in the first place, but at least Stretch wouldn’t have to worry about him pressuring him to tell Slim or getting rid of the kid.

 

That was another thing he had to decide. Could he really be a good mom? He barely had his own life in check, raising a kid seemed like a bit of a bad idea...but the longer he felt it, the small souling already sending little pulses of magic to him, letting him know it lived…

 

He sighed, tapping on the contact he needed and putting his phone to his head. Hopefully Sans would be able to help him think this shit through.

 

~.~

 

“What’s up bud?”

 

Stretch flinched a little at his friend’s voice. Sure he wanted to talk to him in the first place, but now that he actually had him on the phone it was like his voice got caught in his throat.

 

“Uh...you there? You didn’t butt call me again, did you?” Stretch gave a little chuckle and heard an answering, baritone laugh on the other end. “You okay over there, Stretch?” He swallowed, gathering up his courage, before answering.

 

“Yeah, yeah, uh...I needed to talk to you, but uh…” Once again his throat seemed to clench up. Sans, however, seemed to hear that he needed him over and, after a second, the phone was filled with static. 

  
“What’s up?” Stretch jumped a little, even though he knew the other had been taking a short cut over. He hung up, sticking his phone back in his pocket before turning to the other with his regular lazy smirk.

 

“Just wanted to talk...can’t really talk to anybody else about it, so.” He shrugged, sinking back into the couch and holding in another flinch as the other settled in beside him.

 

“So?” 

 

Stretch sighed, took a deep breath, then closed his eyes.

 

“I may or may not have gotten pregnant after a one night stand with Slim.”

  
The silence was deafening.


	4. Endfell (yet another AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Endfell is an AU I created, which is an Underfell variant. Therefore, obviously, not up for adoption lol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is based on an AU I made, which I will eventually write a better thing for, because I love this idea. This oneshot was supposed to be a part of something longer, which, uh...won't end up happening in the original way I planned. So it probably is really dumb and doesn't make any sense, but because of mental health reasons I have nothing better to post.
> 
> Sorry ^^'

It was a fascination the three of them shared, finding other universes. Since they all knew each other and had formed an...interesting bond with their multiverse brothers, it was more often than not that you could find Red, Sans, and Stretch all together doing some form of activity. Their favorite, besides simply hanging out and messing with their brothers, was using Sans’ machine to look at other universes and find the differences from their own.

 

Unfortunately, this lead to a few unsavory characters discovering the link between their universes and trying to cross over. These were always solved relatively easily, with the connection being permanently deleted and the data erased. There were times, however, when something would draw them to a specific timeline, a specific universe, and they would try and contact the Sans or Papyrus, depending on the universal traits. Sometimes it worked, and they would even visit their new friends. Sometimes it didn’t, and nothing was lost.

 

However, there was one night in which the three lazybones decided to simply visit a universe and try to find their alternates without messaging them first. It was a stable timeline, on the surface. From what they could gather, it was a subset of Red’s home timeline. More than a little curious to see what may have changed (as Red’s Underground never made it to the Surface), they booted up the machine and stepped through the resulting portal, a message left to their brothers so that they would not be worried if they were gone for longer than expected.

 

What they found was something none of them expected.

 

~.~ 

 

Sans stood at the edge of the forest they found themselves in, the portal closing behind Stretch and Red with a loud crack. He smiled as he found that the Surface itself seemed to be the same as his own universe; from this point he could see the city monster’s settled in after first leaving the Underground.

 

“You think they live in town? Or still Underground?” Stretch asked, pulling a cig from his hoodie pocket and lighting it up. Red shrugged as he joined them, eyelights flitting around as he studied the dark woodland around them.

 

“We won’t know until we find someone. Maybe we should try and find the kid?” Red asked timidly. Sans sent him an encouraging smile. They were still working on Red’s confidence, as his anxiety was still a contributing factor to why he and his Papyrus didn’t get along very well. From what he had told them, things were much,  _ much _ better than they were Underground. But the two of them still had their problems with trust and openly showing affection.

 

“Well, time to find a Grillby’s.” Sans quipped, before winking and taking a gentle hold of Red’s arm, shortcutting them into the outskirts of the small city. Stretch followed, very aware Sans only had enough extra magic to transport one other person. The three of them took in the lights and homey atmosphere of the houses they passed, a little relieved that it seemed the human had put the monsters of this timeline on a more peaceful path before freeing them. The farther they got into the city, the more things seemed to liven up, but that was to be expected. It wasn’t until they rounded a corner and found exactly who they were looking for that they paused and backed up a step. 

 

There was this universe’s version of Fell, leaning against the front wall of Grillby’s, halfway through a cigarette. He wore a black leather jacket and his red scarf, which wasn’t all that surprising, but he also wore what look to be a dark green sweater beneath it. Red frowned, studying his brother’s alternate from behind the other two, before looking up at Stretch. Stretch’s brow was creased as this Fell seemed bored, almost, simply standing outside of Grillby’s. Maybe he was waiting for his brother?

 

Sans stared at him for a moment, before turning back to look at Red. “Why don’t you go say hi? He’ll accept you a little better than us two.” Red frowned and almost refused, before taking a look at this version of his baby brother. There was something there...something he hadn’t seen in his own brother’s face in a long time. He couldn’t decide what it was, but it put a knot in his soul. He nodded, pushing at Sans and Stretch until they were hidden well enough for his tastes, then tentatively began walking towards the other.

 

The other didn’t even seem to notice him until he was right in front of him, simply staring down at him in what Red could only assume was shock. Red smiled, waving a little. “Hey, Pap.” This Fell looked him up and down for a moment, his cigarette completely forgotten as it slipped from his fingers to the cement below. Red fidgeted a little as the other continued to just  _ stare _ at him, not saying anything, before he frowned, crossing his arms.

 

“You aren’t my Sans, so who are you?” Red blinked. Really, the differences between him and this universe’s Sans shouldn’t have been that different, unless they just acted differently. But, he really couldn’t lie to the other when he had been called out like that.

 

“I’m uh...I’m from a different universe? Just visiting, wanted to meet you and your bro.” Red inwardly flinched at the pure awkward his mouth had just spewed, rather than words. How in the fuck was this Fell supposed to believe him? To his surprise, however, the other’s face seemed to fall a little bit, before it hardened.

 

“Well, too bad. I don’t have a brother anymore and I’m not interested in talking to a copy, so you might as well go back wherever it is you came from.” Red winced a little at the tone, recognizing what it was he could see finally. This Papyrus had given up. He turned to leave, and just before Red could try and stop him Stretch appeared in front of him, smiling in his lazy way. Sans walked over, standing at Red’s side in an almost protective stance. 

 

“Hey there, bud. No need to be rude. We just wanna chat, yeah?” Stretch made sure to give off a peaceful vibe; starting a fight with a Fell Papyrus of unknown skill would be a very bad idea. The Fell scowled, before turning back to Red.

“You didn’t say you had brought friends with you.” His voice was deep now that he was hiding his pain. Red looked away, very much aware that establishing trust was the right move in this situation.

 

“I didn’t know how you would react. My own brother didn’t understand at first, and lashed out.” Red said simply. He looked back and could see a flash of understanding in the other’s eyelights, before the other turned away once more and began walking down the sidewalk.

 

“Well then. It’s late as fuck and I don’t feel like trying to understand all this shit until tomorrow. Come to my home or don’t.” 

  
The three of them gave each other a knowing look before following. It wasn’t like they had anywhere else to go.


	5. Exploration is Key (Fell Sans/Reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a mini babble. For anyone that reads these, I do apologize for the lack of content, I had a death in the family just a day or so ago on top of everything else that's been going on. So...yeah.
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter Tags: Sans/Reader, Underfell, On the Surface, Body Exploration, No Smut, Curiosity, Touching of the Face

You were sitting on the couch, Sans on the opposite corner of you as you watched a new horror movie that had just been released on DVD. Honestly, you weren’t all that impressed. Rather than true horror, it felt as though the writers had been going more for a gore-filled shock factor. Which didn’t really appeal to you that much, but you knew Sans would more than likely appreciate the violence level. It was only about halfway through the movie and your eyes were drifting shut, a nap sounding just about perfect. Which was why you jerked a bit in surprise when you felt a hand suddenly brush the side of your face.

 

You turn and find Sans looking at you, his face creased in concentration like he get’s sometimes when he wants to know more about something. You raise a brow, giving a pointed look to the hand still hovering at the side of your head. He finally seems to notice, giving you a sheepish grin.

 

“Humans are so much different from monsters...skeletons in general…” He goes quiet as he begins studying your face once more. You smile, already aware of the fact that both brothers were more than a little fascinated by pretty much everything about you; you were surprised this hadn’t come up before. You make sure you have Sans’ attention once more before speaking.

 

“Go ahead.” He stares at you for a moment, before the meaning of your words sink in and he blushes. It’s adorable, honestly.

 

“Are ya sure? I d-don’t…” You nod, smiling encouragingly before leaning back to get comfortable. Sans looks you up and down for a moment before grinning, scooting over so that he can look at you without being uncomfortable himself. You nod as he once again hesitates, then close your eyes at his request. You trust him.

 

The first touch startles you, but you make sure not to let Sans know that. His clawed phalanges, while not as sharp as his brother’s, lightly trace down your cheek and over your jawline, obviously following where he can feel bone. It’s a relaxing sensation, surprisingly so, and after only a few minutes of just gentle touches to your face you’ve fully relaxed back into the couch. Sans seems to be encouraged by this, and continues his exploration over the rest of your scalp.

 

You’re pretty sure that, if he ever asked to do this again, you would be  _ very  _ much okay with it.


	6. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: Angst, night terrors, using art to cope

It was hot, it was hot and Fell couldn’t breath, he couldn’t breath and his chest felt constricted, he was trapped, he was in danger! He began to struggle in his binds, to desperately try and get away from whatever was keeping him in place, only to wake up as he fell off his bed.

 

A loud thump sounded through the house, Fell quick to pull the tangled sheets from around his bones and get back in bed before someone came to check on him. He waited in silence, going lax as the door clicked open; only to shut once more as the monster left. It was more than likely Red, his bedroom just next door. 

 

Curse his brother for his excellent hearing skills. When it came to meaningless things, a least.

 

After another long moment of waiting in silence, Fell sighed, sitting up on the edge of his bed. Of course he had another nightmare, it wasn’t as though he had problems sleeping in the first place. Not that Rus or Stretch seemed to actually sleep all that much either, as much as the lazy ashtray would have his brother believe otherwise. It may have simply been a Papyrus thing, like so many other “things”, but Fell couldn’t help but hate this particular one.

 

Getting up, Fell carefully pulled a loose shirt on before opening his closet, his stash of notebooks and pencils inside. Grabbing up one that had a distinctive blue cover and a black colored pencil, he made his way back to his bed, propping up a few pillows to rest his back on against the wall. Once comfortable, he opened to a fresh, unmarked page, and though for a moment before putting the pencil to the paper.

 

Broad strokes of black blossomed over the white paper, his mind fueling the nightmare that came to life before him. It was an ugly beast, covered in light patches of gray that signified the dust of those it had killed. A quick flick of magic and a red colored pencil was in his hands, marking out the creature’s eyes, each a deep, bloody pit.

 

Looking it over for a moment, Fell took a deep breath before closing the notebook. It was just a nightmare. It wasn’t real, and it never would be real.

 

The notebook and pencils placed carefully back where they belonged, Fell curled back under his covers, ignoring the tears that pooled in his eyes. He was fine. Out of the lot of them, he was the last to have the right to complain about his problems.

 

He was fine.


	7. Ssssaaannnssss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lamia(snek) Sanses and Papyruses are the cutest thing ever and I love them.
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter Tags: Underfell Sans, Underfell Papyrus, On the Surface AU, Fluff, Slice of Life, Mini-Snake Fell

“Sssss...sssssaaassssss!” Sans awoke to loud, annoyed hissing right next to his head, the sound itself a close enough attempt to his name for him to not lash out in defense. He reached up with steady, careful hands and scooped up the tiny terror that was his pet, before slowing sitting up. A look at the clock on his nightstand produced a loud groan.

 

Six in the fucking morning. On a weekend.

 

Another loud hiss, along with a sharp nibble to his phalanges reminded him there was a very angry lamia settled in his hands, who apparently couldn’t wait for a better, less soul breaking hour to eat. He glared down at the skeletal snake, red coils tightening about his fingers as Edge returned the look.

 

Little bugger was too smart for his own damn good. 

 

Sans yawned as he headed down the hall, Edge studying his golden tooth with intense fascination. Like he always did. Sans didn’t get it himself, but maybe the fact that he had fangs was the cause of the scrutiny. Either way, once the took was nestled with the rest of them once more Edge turned away, looking around the small apartment they lived in. As small as he was, Edge didn’t get to just explore to his heart’s content. So he tried to see everything he could from his perch, wherever on Sans’ boney frame that ended up being.

 

The kitchen light was flipped on, the larger skeleton blinking for a moment to get used to the light before walking to the fridge, grabbing a tupperware container from inside and taking off the lid before plopping it in the microwave. The little shit couldn’t eat mice or rats like a normal snake, no, he had to be all fancy and prefer shit like homemade lasagna and chicken parmesan made from scratch. He was positive if  Edge had his way he would be killing the chicken himself before preparing it.

 

Getting a smaller lamia was supposed to be less work; it was exactly why he had opted to get one of the mini ones instead of the full size, seven to eight foot long monsters they had up for adoption. Too much work, he had decided.

 

The one he got just so happened to be such a tiny diva he was sure it would have been the same amount of daily struggle for one of the regular sized ones.

 

Which, when he had complained to Blue about it the first thing he had been asked was why he hadn’t just returned the tiny snake. If he really was that much trouble, why keep him? Surely there was a better suited monster for the task out there somewhere. And at first, Sans had agreed.

 

At least until the first time Edge let himself out of his tank so that he could sleep with Sans in his bed. How in the world the tiny snake had hoisted himself up, he would never be sure, but waking up to the little guy cuddled in his pillow, crimson coils wrapped around a few of his fingers.

 

Now he would never be able to get rid of the prissy little snake. His life would forever be filled with annoyed hissing and doing the bidding of what was supposed to be a pet.

 

As the microwave dinged, Edge tightening his tail around his phalanges in excitement, Sans smiled. Maybe it wouldn’t be all that bad.


	8. Cheat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ollie and I were talking about Blue as a casual sex kinda person. This is a way that could go wrong lol
> 
> (Still on hiatus for main fics)
> 
> Chapter Tags: ClassicCherryBerry, Edgeberry, Cheating on partners, Polyamory, Angst, Confessing to cheating

“You…” Sans’ voice broke as his breath hitched, a hand coming up to rub furiously at his face, to wipe away the tears that pooled in his sockets. Blue wasn’t positive he’d ever seen the other this angry, this  _ enraged _ , about anything. To be honest he was afraid, afraid of what Sans might do.

 

This was definitely one of those times Blue desperately wished he had the ability to shortcut.

 

But he had never been afraid of Sans before, never had cause to fear his laid back, lazy alternate. After what he had confessed, however...he had never been so scared in his life.

 

“You fucked Fell? And my own…” he paused again, his voice higher pitched than usual. Blue kept his mouth shut. “You slept with our brothers and thought we’d just  _ be okay _ with it?!” Sans glared with sunken sockets, his eyelights flickering with emotional pain that Blue could understand. 

 

Sans’ sockets narrowed as Blue mumbled something, looking anywhere but him. “What was that?” Blue flinched at his tone, but repeated himself.

 

“I didn’t sleep with Rus when we were together. It was before.”

 

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?!” Blue’s mouth opened, maybe to defend himself, maybe to apologize, but one look of hurt anger and his teeth clinked shut once more. Sans paced to the other side of the room, hands shaking at his sides in clenched fists. His trembling increased, almost to the point that Blue was about to ask if he was okay (dumb question), when he went limp, his arms coming up to wrap around himself.

 

“Did we mean that little to you?” Blue opened his mouth to answer, to soothe that broken, hopeless tone, only to find that he couldn’t. To be honest he had joined Sans and Red’s relationship for the unique experience of being in a polyamory. They had been agreeable, seeming to have been holding a torch for him for a while, so he took the opportunity. 

 

It didn’t take long for him to realize it wasn’t what he wanted. 

 

But leaving had felt cheap, like he had been using them in some way, so he stayed. Maybe that hadn’t been the best strategy. Especially since no one had known about their relationship. Blue wasn’t sure how to fix things now that he had confessed his thoughts and feelings. He wanted out of the relationship, plain and simple, but Sans had figured out that he had...slept with other monsters. 

 

He had been weak, unsatisfied with how things were. Was it really all that bad he wished Sans would just understand his side of it?

 

He couldn’t get how his friend looked now out of his head, even as Sans kicked him out, with the warning of “ _ You have to tell Red. Either you tell him or I will. _ ” ringing through his skull. Sans really hadn’t taken it like he’d hoped. No doubt Red would know by the end of the night. He’d have to figure out what to tell Fell.

 

Things really hadn’t gone his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ignore VVVVVVVV


	9. Texting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on true events.
> 
>  
> 
> Also short as fuck because honestly im still fucking upset about the oven mitt and i wanted you all to know of my pain
> 
> Chapter Tags: Reader/Sans, Underfell Sans, On the Surface, Texting, Mishaps

**Me:** i just threw a fucking oven mitt behind the fridge im so upset

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

**EdgyMan:** How in the fuck

 

**Me:** theres like, a tiny ass crack between the fridge and the wall right behind where i keep the oven mitts

 

**Me:** i threw one over like i always do when im done with them

 

**Me:** and it fucking went behind the fridge

 

…

 

…

 

**EdgyMan:** ...ass crack huh. Nice.

 

**Me:** Fuck you

 

**Me:** im breaking up with you

 

**Me:** why do i love you

 

**EdgyMan:** I love you to babe. Terrible as fuck aim and all. *kisses* I’ll be home later tonight.

 

**Me:** I hate you

 

**Me:** ugh

  
**Me:** ...*kisses*


	10. Panic (Fell Papyrus/Reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So anxiety and panic attacks are fun :D
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter tags: Papyrus/Anxious Reader, Underfell Papyrus, Underground, Panic Attack, Fell is a good boyfriend, Master/Slave undertones

Walking down the road with a leash attached to your collar was honestly still one of the strangest, most humiliating things you’d ever done. Well, maybe not the  _ most  _ humiliating, seeing as how this was the main event for every friday.

 

Friday was shopping day. Which “provided the Great and Terrible Papyrus the perfect opportunity to show off his pet!” You didn’t mind so much anymore, if only because you’d seen first hand what Paps would do if anyone were to try and hurt you. But being out in public, paraded around like a prize dog...just being out in public up on the Surface was enough to make your anxious thoughts and feelings skyrocket. Being Underground, where everyone wanted to kill you (even though it had proven more difficult that it was worth), made everything feel ten times worse.

 

Being Underground, where everyone wanted to kill you, with a collar around your neck proclaiming you the property of the meanest, cruelest monster in Snowdin...let’s just say you weren’t in the best shape once you and Papyrus finally headed home with the groceries for the week.

 

“Move, wench.” A gloved hand prodded your back, pushing you into the general store run by the Rabbit Sisters. As barbaric a society as it was, monsters still needed food and basic supplies. The king cared enough about his people to provide that, at least.

 

You followed Papyrus through the store, carrying whatever he handed you without question or complaint, keeping your head down and your eyes directed to the floor. Looking a monster in the eye was paramount to challenging them, and someone “in your class” would never do something like that, especially since you wanted to live and not become someone’s punching bag of the day. 

 

Both Papyrus and Sans had schooled you in how to act, especially in public. You usually followed their instructions to the letter, but today...today you could feel it. Fear, potent and heavy, pooling like acid in your stomach, making your chest heavy. Breathing became more and more difficult, tears dotting your eyes as you desperately tried not to sniffle. The fear was all consuming, your thoughts racing in your head, everything abrasive to your scattered senses.

 

“What the fuck is your problem now, wench?!” Papyrus’ voice was a growl, and though you knew it was an act, it did nothing to halt the attack you were experiencing. If anything, it made it grow all the faster, until your hands were clutching your chest, all the boxes and jars you’d been holding suddenly on the floor. Your vision was doubling as Papyrus screamed at you, one of the store owners yelling something about money and the mess you’d made. A strong, gloved hand gripped your wrist, and though it was probably supposed to look like it hurt, the firmness of it cleared your mind enough to stumble along after your “owner”, who was still screaming as he all but dragged you out of the store and through the rest of Snowdin.

 

Soon you reached the house, Papyrus making a show of unlocking the door and throwing you inside. Soon he was inside, still yelling and spitting curses as he locked the door, but as soon as the curtains were checked and the rest of the house was deemed clear, Papyrus was at your side, hands carefully holding you up.

 

“Are you having another attack?” From the way he asked, you could tell he knew, he was just trying to get you to talk. You nodded, trying to get your breathing back under control even as tears streamed down your face. It’d been so long since you’d had an actual panic attack; you’d gotten so good at noticing when they were starting to crop up and taking care of them before they could escalate too far. This one…

 

This one had come out of nowhere with a brutal stab to your psyche.

 

Papyrus whispered soothing words as he picked you up, settling the both of you on the couch after wrapping you in the afghan they kept downstairs for such occasions. You curled into him, your thoughts finally slowing down and your chest no longer heaving for air.

 

“I am here, Y/n. Sleep, I will protect you.”

 

You nodded, closing your eyes and relaxing in his hold. You trusted this skeleton with your life. You knew he would protect you.


	11. Tumblr 100 Followers Babbles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hit 100 followers on Tumblr like....probably a month ago? And I did a thing where I took requests ^^ I got five, one of which was smut so, no go, but I did the other 4 :D

**To Get a Fish (and love it dearly)- Requested by CrushingOnSans**

 

Sans groaned as the loud house phone rang from the next room, the damn Surface home walls too thin for his napping habits. If the phone rang, he was awake. Grumbling to himself as Papyrus answered with a loud “Hello, you’ve reached the Great Papyrus!”, Sans turned over and covered his head with his pillow.

 

Maybe if he tried hard enough he could block the sound out and fall back asleep.

 

A loud knocking rattled his door in the frame, Papyrus’ voice carrying through with little effort. “Sans, it’s for you! Get your lazy pelvis out of bed and come get the phone!” So much for that. Sans sighed heavily and flopped over, kicking away his sheets and sitting up with a groan.

 

Once he was sure getting up wouldn’t result in him falling over, he got to his feet and walked to the door, opening it as slowly as possible so as to achieve ultimate brotherly annoyance points. If by the face of rage he was greeted with, he had succeeded. After a mental fist pump of victory, Sans took the phone, ignoring the now fuming skeleton beside him.

 

“Y’llo, Sans here.”

 

Sans listened to the monotonous voice on the other end of the line for a few seconds, and then stood in silence as he tried to compute what had been said. Once it clicked, Sans had to stifle a very unmanly squeal of happiness, thanking the person on the line profusely before hanging up and running to the front door.

 

Papyrus watched with great confusion as his older, slovenly brother shoved his shoes on with an excitement he hadn’t seen in years. “I’ll be back in an hour or so, Paps!” And with that, Sans was out the door, the slab of wood slamming shut behind him. Papyrus shook his head. 

 

Whatever it was, it was good for his brother if it made him move that quickly.

 

~.~

 

Sans was breathing heavily as he finally made his way to the pet store, his soul thumping with excitement in his chest. The glass door opened smoothly as he all but ran inside, hands shaking as he made his way to the desk in the back. The human running the store looked up as he got close, a bored look on his face.

 

“I’m here for the skelefish?” Sans couldn’t remember for the life of him what their actual scientific name was, but what animal he meant seemed clear enough to the employee as the human nodded, standing and making their way around the desk and towards the tanks. Sans followed with a jittery air, everything seeming almost too good to be true.

 

Until he looked up and saw the little red fish, black hoody still covering its tiny bones, almost seeming to be waiting for him. The little guy waved excitedly, Sans grinning like a dope as he waved back.

 

The next half hour went by like a dream as the employee set him up with everything he might need, setting up a date for it all to be delivered. The fish was put in a temporary, portable tank, handed to Sans once he paid the remaining balance owed. He walked home, hands carefully around the plastic tank, eyelights flitting down every few seconds.

 

It warmed his soul to see that little Red would stare back and smile happily every time he did.

 

 

 

 

  
  
**Cherries and Pasta- Requested by LazySintasic13**

 

Red yawned, stretching out as the TV spouted commercial after commercial, each product more useless than the last. Except for the Grabber Deluxe. That shit would make it so much easier to reach stuff with his short stature (not at all to be confused with laziness). Which, he would die if anyone actually caught him using something like that, especially Boss, but when he was alone? Shame didn’t exist.

 

He perked up as the front door opened and closed, his lover trudging in before carefully shutting the door behind him. Red frowned. Papyrus was usually fairly peppy, always excited about life and all the things he could do with it. His partner was the one to finally help him out of his depression, as impossible as that had seemed. Red could never thank him enough for that, forever in the taller skeleton’s debt, not that Papyrus would hear of it.

 

Right now, however, Pap looked two steps from falling over, his entire countenance screaming fatigue and, more concerning, dejection. Something had happened, something that had ruined his partner’s day and forced him to come home, a safe place, looking as though someone had died. Which, until he asked, Red couldn’t really rule that out.

 

He got to his feet as Papyrus seemed to pause on his way to the kitchen, his gaze blank. Carefully, in case the other didn’t want to be touched, Red curled his arms around him, holding him close.

 

“What happened?” It was less of a question and more of a request. Sometimes Papyrus tended to keep what bothered him to himself, believing that he should be happy for everyone. Red was still working on getting his lover to tell him when he had a bad day. For Pap to be this obvious about it, it must have been serious.

 

“I got fired. Paul and Jack.” Red growled, his face scrunching up in anger even as he lead Papyrus back over to the couch, sitting him down and fastidiously wrapping a quilt over his shoulders. Two of his lover’s co-workers had been trying for months to pin minor occurrences and mishaps on him in an effort to get him fired. Because Papyrus had actual friends in his workplace, someone would usually vouch for him and he hadn’t gotten in trouble.

 

If they succeeded this time, Red had to wonder what the hell they had framed on his lover.

 

He wouldn’t ask, however. His job was to make Pap forget about it for a bit, distract him from how shitty life was, remind him of how much he was loved.

 

“Well, they were idiots to fire you, sweetheart. I bet you’ll find a new job in no time, especially since you’re such a hard worker. They didn’t deserve you.” Red studied his lover for a moment, sighing as he realized that Papyrus didn’t believe him. Maybe eventually he would, but for now, Red knew how to cheer him up.

He’d get his lover a bowl of his favorite oatmeal. He’d put on a MTT marathon. And he’d watch it with him for the rest of the night and talk about whatever the hell Pap wanted to talk about.

 

And when Papyrus finally fell asleep? Well, then Red would go find himself a couple assholes and have a hella great time showing them what happens when you mess with monsters as sweet as Papyrus.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Hard Day- Requested by felliskelli**

 

Sans shuffled his feet as he walked alongside his brother, the various dust piles he stepped in forced to the back of his mind. Today was a day to celebrate, not a day to recount the fallen. No, these monsters were now dust because they defied his brother, because they refused to even consider the possibility of a new life that they could have. No more dust lining the streets. No more EXP hunters making it dangerous to even leave your home.

 

No, with Asgore gone everything would be better. Those loyal to the old goat just couldn’t see that. Couldn’t look past their bloodlust to see the bigger picture. It was sad honestly.

 

Despite all this, Sans hadn’t smiled this hard in years. Hadn’t seen his bro this satisfied, this openly  _ pleased  _ with everything. It had been a hard fought battle, but it was worth it, every fucking bit. Here they stood, the victors, and hell if he hadn’t seen his brother this happy...ever.

 

“We did it Sans.” Papyrus’ voice was quiet, almost as though he was afraid of being too loud in the Great Hall, the golden rays of light bathing everything in a peaceful light. Sans stepped up to be at his brother’s side, looking over the great pile of dust that sat just before the throne. An iron gilded crown sat in the middle of it, the picture almost ironic. Sans would have snorted if the moment weren’t so serious, so preciously serene.

 

Papyrus simply stood, hands clasped together in the way they did when he wasn’t sure the best step forward, when he wasn’t sure of what he should do. Sans made the decision for him, taking the last few steps to the edge of the pile of dust, gingerly picking up the crown and dusting it off with the hem of his jacket before turning back to his brother.

 

“You did it, Pap.” Sans’ voice was reverent, the same tone he used when Papyrus took control, when the two of them could be who they really were. Though they were no longer behind closed doors. No, this was about as public as one could get.

 

Sans grinned as he gestured for Papyrus to kneel down, the smile only getting larger as understanding bloomed over his brother’s face, the taller quickly kneeling, one arm over his propped up knee. He still looked unsure as Sans did his duty, placing the heavy crown upon his little brother’s skull, but the longer it sat there the more sure he looked.

 

Papyrus stood, his entire form regal and commanding, his magic flaring in pride and confidence. Sans had never been so proud in his whole damn life.

 

“We’ll rebuild the Underground, brother. We’ll make it safe again. I promise this.” Papyrus spoke with authority, turning back to the doorways where the sounds of approaching monsters looking to take down the new monarchy in a bid to gain the crown themselves came. A wicked gleam overtook both brothers, crimson magic lighting up the hall as their weapons of destruction formed behind them, ready to tear and maim, ready to protect what what theirs. 

A new Underground was coming. But first, the trash needed to be taken out.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**Maple Leaves and Honey Bees- Requested by LadyPterosaur**

 

“Do you want a pillow?” Slim asked for the tenth time and to be completely and utterly honest, Stretch was doing his best to not get angry. Pregnant as he was, his emotions all over the place, angry was a very easy thing to get. But Slim only meant well, only wanted to do the best he could for his mate and their child. It wasn’t his fault Stretch found the constant attention...smothering.

 

“Nope, I’m fine. You could sit with me for a bit though, if you want?” Stretch hoped that in getting Slim to sit and rest, maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to sneak in a nap. Slim looked him over for a moment, as if making completely sure that Stretch really didn’t need anything before sitting beside him, wrapping his arm over Stretch’s shoulder and leaning into him.

 

Stretch all but melted into the contact, his husband having been extremely careful with his touch in the past couple months, terrified that he would do something to hurt the baby. Being in his arms was one of the most potent sensations Stretch could have hoped for to put him right to sleep. He closed his sockets, willing the darkness to take him away…

 

And promptly felt a nudge to his stomach. Sockets flying open, he looked incredulously at Stretch, thinking that perhaps the other had been trying to feel for the baby again (that had been an awkward way to wake up. At 3 in the morning). To his surprise, Slim had his own sockets closed, his breathing even. Well, what the hell was it then?

 

The nudge returned, this time sharper and right to the center of his summoned stomach. Stretch winced, pulling up his shirt to check on the tiny soul he carried. Was something wrong? Did they need to get help?

 

Three nudges in rapid succession, all to the center of his ecto-stomach, made him jump. He studied his magic for a moment, only for tears to pool in his eyes as he realized just what was going on.

 

“Slim!” 

 

His husband jumped, snorting as a hand came up to wipe at his mouth, looking here and there in an attempt to see who had yelled at him. After a moment his eyelights landed on Stretch, who was not at all sobbing in happiness, both hands placed to his stomach. Slim’s eyes widened, his mouth opening probably to ask what was wrong and what he needed to do, but before he could say anything Stretch grabbed his hand, holding it against his golden magic.

 

Slim waited in confused silence until there were two more kicks to his hand, the tears in his partner’s eyes soon mirrored by his own.

 

The two of them sat like that for hours, hands held lovingly over Stretch’s magic as they felt the movements of their future child, the happiness taking over their souls almost too much.


	12. Discovery Channel for the Soul (Fell Brothers/Reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a nightmare a couple weeks back, wrote most of this as a way to calm down. 
> 
> Chapter Tags: Underfell Papyrus & Underfell Sans/Reader, On the Surface, Fluff, Light Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares

You blink sleepily, curled up in your largest blanket on the couch, the TV on and droning something about nature facts and African snakes. The light from the TV bathes everything in a light blue, the windows still dark with night time. You yawn, shifting as you try your hardest to do literally anything but relive the nightmare that had woken you up not 20 minutes before.

 

Fuck nightmares, fuck dreams in general. A night without dreams was a night of perfection.

 

But sometimes your mind decided to take the plethora of material it had to work with from all the horror movies and shows you’d watched over the years and give you a doozie of a nightmare. This one had been weird as well as terrifying, a combination that made sure you weren’t going back to sleep any time soon.

 

Your phone sits on the couch cushion beside you, within arms’ reach just in case someone tried something stupid like breaking in. Stupid of them because you obviously didn’t have much worth stealing. You’d always joked that if anyone ever tried to mug you, you’d laugh in their face and offer to help them look for all the money you didn’t have.

 

Every so often the thought would flit through your mind to contact one of your boyfriends, but you had quickly shut that idea down. Maybe they were asleep for once, and you’d be bothering them? Papyrus rarely slept, the lanky edgelord, and Sans had more, worse nightmares than you did. You’d hate to text when they were actually getting a good night’s sleep, but…

 

You look towards your phone, sitting innocently on the coffee table. Really, you shouldn’t...but you want, more like  _ need  _ their comfort, as gruff as they can be while delivering it. They have been getting better at that these past few weeks… You sigh in annoyance at yourself as you pick up your phone, unlocking it with a swipe and tapping until you have up Pap’s chat.

 

Of either of the brothers, Pap is the most likely to be awake. The skeleton never sleeps and honestly it scares you. There is no way it’s healthy, but given the varied stories you’d gleaned over the few years you’d known them you can understand. Now that they have been on a relatively safe Surface for years now, Papyrus had started to sleep more and more, much to your relief. Still not as much as Sans, the lazy bones, but enough that you worry a bit less than you used to.

 

You take a deep breath before tapping out your message, reading over it a couple times before sending it off. You set your phone down and settle in to watch the nature documentary a bit more, getting into it just long enough for the loud chime of a received message to startle you.

 

**Me:** Hey Papy, you there?

 

**Edgy Boi 1:** I am here. What is it? Shouldn’t you be asleep?

 

Right to the point as always. You smile.

**Me:** I was asleep. Had a nightmare. What are you up to?

 

**…**

 

**Edgy Boi 1:** Do not deflect such a serious issue. What I was doing is of no concern. Do you require comforting cuddles?

 

You can feel your face warming at his serious tone, but you know he means well. You reply quickly.

 

**Me:** No, that’s okay. I’m fine, I promise.

 

**Edgy Boi 1:** Sans and I will be over in five minutes. Have your door unlocked.

 

You sigh, flopping back into your couch. Of course he would wake up Sans if he thought you needed them. You should have just kept your big mouth shut.

 

Though...you sigh, a dopey looking smile stretched across your face. Really, the would have been angry if you had tried to “suffer” alone, even for something as trivial as a nightmare. You put your phone back on the coffee table, wrapping your blanket around your shoulders as you make your way to the front door. Sans will teleport in if it’s not unlocked when they arrive.

 

Your smile grows. Honestly, a night spent with your edgy men sounds like the perfect way to get the bad evening out of your head. You’re grateful they love you so much. You really are.


	13. I Bet that Quilt was Scratchy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm going to start posting all oneshots I write here, cause my fic count is kinda insane as is lol
> 
> Chapter Tags: Mature, On the Surface, Spicyhoney- UF Paps/US Paps, Getting Cheated On, Mild Suggestive Flashback, Slight Panic Attack, The Tale Bros are bae
> 
> I thought this was a great [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nNhWYarsvs0) to go with this chapter, feel free to check it out ^^

He hadn’t felt like this in such a long time. This overwhelming pressure in his chest, the frantic whirling of his thoughts, the feeling as though he might either throw up or start sobbing…

 

And all over the sight he just ran from. 

 

He should have known, if he was being honest with himself. All the late hours, the mysteriously sudden calls and texts that the bastard had to leave the room to answer… Yes, he should have seen this coming.

 

The vision of two bodies pressing together, of Stretch and someone else _together_ forced itself into his mind and he retched, clawed phalanges pressing to his middle. He fought for breath as tears dotted his sockets, his chest heaving as he fought or breath. He was in the middle of the damn park, he couldn’t be doing this shit in public, he had to get away-!

 

“Fell?” 

 

He locked up, arms wrapping around his knees, which folded protectively to his chest. Still the hot tears streamed from his clenched sockets, despite his valiant efforts to keep them at bay. He didn’t want to see the owner of the baritone voice, as kind and understand as it may be. He didn’t want to have to explain out loud why he was here, why he was crying, why he was…

 

Fell’s bones trembled even as Sans draped his own coat over him, the awful (comforting) smell of ketchup and bones surrounding him. His chest hitched as he took in a deep breath, preparing to open his damn mouth and tell the other to mind his own damn business, but as he looked up and locked eyelights with his brother’s softer alternate, those white eyelights staring back at him with nothing but worry, he broke down.

 

Great heaving sobs tore from his throat as he curled further into himself, attempting to hide away in shame for his outburst. Two small arms wrapped carefully around him, the air changing from a slight, crisp chill to the obvious warmth of inside.

 

“Fell? Buddy? Can you stand up for a sec?” When it’s obvious Fell isn’t going answer, there’s a shift behind him, Sans calling out for his (better,  _ greater _ ) alternate with a slight bit of desperation in his voice. After a moment two familiar, long arms wrap under him, lifting him without even a grunt of exertion. Empty sockets seem to study him as he’s carried across the living room and set carefully on the couch, Rus and Sans both standing in front of him with deep concern in their faces.

 

Fell tried to tell himself that he hates the attention, that he’s not so much of a babybones to need assurance for such a thing. He was not successful. 

 

“What happened, Fell?” Rus’ voice was soft, at odds with how he usually speaks. Something about it unclenched the tension deep in Fell’s chest and the tears started flowing once more, until he was all but sobbing into his hands, leaving shameful tears all over Sans’ jacket.

 

Two different hands were rubbing comforting circles onto his back, continuing to do so until Fell finally got himself under control. With a shuddering breath and a slight hiccup he sat up, going to carefully peel Sans’ jacket off before said skeleton’s hands stopped him, drawing it more firmly around his shoulders. 

 

“Keep it for now, bud. You need it more than I do. Should we call Stretch?” The name almost set him off again, Fell curling further into himself as he choked back a loud sob. A large hand tightened its hold before releasing just as quickly, Rus leaning forward to meet Fell’s eyelights.

 

“What did Stretch do, Fell.”

 

It’s less of a question and more of a demand, even if Rus meant well. Fell found himself shuddering under the careful, attentive gaze of both monsters, but even as they watch he smirked, the gesture filled with bitterness.

 

“More like still doing, I doubt he’s done.” The implications made both Tale brothers growl, though they keep the comforting hold they had on the other, wrapping him further in a warm quilt from the back of one of the chairs. Once Fell had calmed down a bit, Rus all but pulled him into his lap, laying them both back in a more comfortable position. Neither Papyrus thought much of it, the companionable touches commonplace between them.

 

“Did you know? Or suspect?” Rus’ voice was soft, much gentler than it usually was. Fell shook his head in answer, curling further into Rus’ chest even as Sans left their side. He knew what the smaller was doing, and he as much as he wanted to grant  _ him  _ mercy…

 

Fell’s grip on the blanket surrounding him tightened, Rus holding him closer in response. 

 

“Do you think they’ll dust him?” His brother would want to, at the very least. Once he found out, there would be no being on the Surface or from the Underground that would keep Stretch safe. Sans was pissed as well, even if he didn’t know the whole story. Hell, even Blue would be so disappointed in his brother…

 

“No. I doubt he will be left unscathed, but I don’t think they’ll dust him.” Rus’ tone made it clear he wouldn’t condone it even if he thought Sans wanted to. Fell found some comfort in his confidence.

 

“Can I...may I stay here? At least for a few days. I don’t…” Rus’ hand descended onto his spine, slowly working the stress and nervous energy away with every soothing caress.

 

“You can stay as long as you need to, Fell. Our home is your home.”

 

Fell almost smiled at the sentiment. It’d be nice to live with monsters who actually cared about him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon Time!!!- Papyrus is actually really tactile and comfortable with physical touch. So it's not all that weird a occurrence to find him snuggling platonically with someone, it just comes naturally to him.
> 
> What are some of you guys' headcanons for the Great Papyrus?


	14. Monthly Drabble- Jolly Roger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So [Crush](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CrushingOnSans/pseuds/CrushingOnSans) and [Ollie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ollie_oxen_free/pseuds/ollie_oxen_free) and I have started a little project where every month one of us comes up with a prompt and then we all write something for it. It's more or less to make sure we keep writing new things.
> 
> Here is the one Ollie [wrote](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10560830/chapters/27163416)
> 
> Here is the one Crush [wrote](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8585845/chapters/27278643)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> September's Prompt( by Ollie)- 
> 
>   **One character is a pirate, the other is a naval officer, the pirate captain has just captured the officer and is currently holding them hostage. What happened to the crew/ship and why the officer was kept in the first place is up to you.**

Red slits of light were the only things that gave away the position of a shadow that stole across the lower decks of the ship, boards and ropes creaking ominously around him as he made his way up to the main deck. Slipping past the sleeping crew members was no more than an exercise in silence, easy for someone such as he. As soon as he had reached the end of the crew quarters, which was no more than a large room of the ship with pallets and hammocks spread here or there, he quickly scaled the ladder that lead straight to his goal.

 

The fresh, sea air kissed his bones, the night chill welcome after the stuffy atmosphere of the lower decks. He kept a relieved sigh internal, watching carefully as the crewmen on watch ambled here and there, more than ready to end their shifts and head below for a good night’s rest.

 

A quick view of the position of the stars and moon and the one sneaking about estimated the time before the new watch, a small smirk overtaking his features. Right on time. 

 

He crawled up and onto the deck, moving with the shadows as he stole across the worn wood planks, hiding behind crates and masts as he went. No one had noticed him yet, his plan working beautifully all the way up until the point in which he was on the side of the ship where the lifeboats were stored. One quick slash of his pilfered dagger and the boat would be free in the water, ready for him to make his grand escape.

 

The knife glinted in the moonlight as he moved to cut the ropes, only for a boney hand to catch his own, a strong squeeze to his sensitive carpals making him release the blade. It clattered to the deck as he looked up to his captor, his soul falling in his chest as the bastard gave him a victorious grin.

 

“Well hello there, Officer Serif. Fancy a dip on this fine evenin’?” Fell tried to spit in the other’s face, attempting to get the other to release his grip on his wrist, only for his other hand to be captured, his body forced away from the railing of the ship and back towards the main quarters. He fought the whole way, spitting and hissing at the jeering from the men that caught sight of the debacle, the bastard keeping a firm hold on him chuckling all the way.

 

The door to the Captain’s quarters was thrown open, Fell all but jerked inside as the bastard threw him to the floor, shutting and locking the door behind them both. No one would even attempt to bother them now, trepidation and a slight tinge of fear gripping Fell’s soul.

 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” He spat, scooting back against the far wall as the pirate started towards him, the other only rolling his eyelights as a pair of manacles were clapped on one of his wrists, the other to a wooden leg of a table bolted to the floor.

 

“There. Maybe you won’t try and run off every night like a bat outta hell. Is it really so bad spending the night down in the hold? I’ve found it fairly peaceful down there.” 

 

Fell scoffed. Of course the other would find it peaceful, he undoubtedly smoked down there. It would explain the near unbreathable air. The pirate seemed to study him for a moment before smirking, leaning forward as though to put his hand on Fell’s shoulder. Fell jerked back, eyelights constricting to points as he attempted to get away, unable due to his shackled wrist. 

 

“Well that’s explains that at least.” Stretch hummed to himself, leaning back against his desk as Fell fought to keep up his angry demeanor. “Not a fan of being touched, huh? I can respect that.” 

 

Fell scoffed. “I highly doubt that.”

 

Stretch’s face darkened, his own eyelights flashing into existence for a moment before he relaxed once more, smirk still in place. “I’ll make you a deal, Edgelord. If you behave until we get to port, I can guarantee that no one will touch you.”

 

Fell scowled up at the captain, wishing he had been able to keep that particular weakness a secret. Now that the other knew, if he didn’t take his deal there would doubtlessly be endless touches, as “innocent” as they may be. They didn’t have to be of a suggestive nature for his soul to roil in discomfort.

 

“Why should I believe you? You could just as easily lie and…” He really didn’t want to finish the thought, now that Stretch knew. No reason to give him any ideas.

 

Stretch just shrugged, getting a cigar from a box on his desk and lighting it with a match, the thick smoke instantly making Fell’s nasal aperture itch. “I spared your crew, didn’t I? Didn’t have to do that, as the evil, nasty scum of a pirate that I am, but I did. Doesn’t that count for something?”

 

Fell huffed, his thoughts on the poor crewmen that had almost been executed right before him, if he hadn’t all but begged for their lives. He knew those men, knew their families. He would never have been able to forgive himself if his own stupidity had gotten them killed. He did owe the captain before him, as much as admitting so pained him. 

 

“If you can guarantee I will be left alone, I won’t try to escape.” The words felt like acid in his fanged mouth, his word binding him to this prison. To what fate awaited him once they got wherever it was they were going.

 

Stretch, the rapscallion of a pirate who had bested him in both tenacity and perseverance smirked, blowing a ring of smoke into the air as he nodded, his empty sockets twinkling in mischief.

 

“No one will touch you. That’s a promise.” He laughed, sockets narrowing as his grin tightened. “As much as a pirate’s promise is worth, at least.”


	15. Jukebox of Bones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know Crush and Ollie and a few others have done these already, but looked fun? And I love music, so it was a win win.
> 
> Enjoy ^^

**We Are the Night- Madison Mars**

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EdIqMvfq_wg>

 

Red watched as Sans bobbed his head, walking through the house with headphones perched carefully over his skull. His mouth parted with lyrics that Red could only hear as faint whispers, the silence of the rest of the house making it more noticeable than it would have been normally.

 

Leaning back into the plush couch, Red had to smile at the look of peace that had crossed his boyfriend’s face. Music just seemed to make Sans feel...better. Wholer. As though the thousands of resets that plagued him, even after three years on the Surface, had all fallen away.

 

Red would fill every part of his lover’s life with music if he could.

 

 

 

**Fake Denim- Quinn XCII**

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nNhWYarsvs0>

 

“Well that’s messed up, why would someone do that?”

 

Fell smirked as he knocked back another shot of hard bourbon, sighing at the satisfying burn as it went down. He shrugged, leaning back in his seat. “No idea. He’s not known for being a smart guy.”

 

Lust chuckled, nodding his skull in agreement, taking a sip of his own more colorful drink before winking, one hand tapping to the beat of the song that was saturating the air around them. “I mean, he is a Sans. We’re not like, astrophysicists or mechanical engineers or anything. Most of us are dumb as a rock.” Fell snorted, nodding absently as he looked around the room with a soft smile.

 

“Yeah. You’re all idiots.”

 

 

 

**Fumes- Eden**

[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uatdsIAbm1s ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uatdsIAbm1s)

 

Stretch stared out, none-existent eyelights flitting carefully over the different cars and motorcycles that he could still see. It was a bit dangerous taking this road this late at night, but it was a shortcut compared to going the main way.

 

A small snore put a grin on his face, the reason for his more or less reckless driving making itself known once more. Poor Sans had fallen asleep no more than twenty minutes ago, and the guy was _out_.

 

Leaning over to pull the warm, black hoodie further over his adorable boyfriend, Stretch turned back to the road, determined to get them home before Sans woke up.

 

 

 

**Sloppy Seconds- Watsky**

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a_raPstxxoc>

 

A scream ripped through the house, Red waking up with a start, his body turning and falling off the worn mattress he’d been taking a break on. He was on his feet and halfway down the stairs to the living room before he’d really woken up, one hand coming up to wipe at his eyes as he took the steps two by two.

 

After a frantic search through the living room he ran to the kitchen, running into the wall as he clipped the corner with a bit more speed than he needed. Panic flowed through his soul even as he stared at the mess of cake batter and frosting that covered almost every surface, the large majority of (what looked to be red velvet, his favorite) cake covering the far wall.

 

Razz was standing in the middle of the mess, frame trembling in rage even as small dollops of off white icing fell off his skull and onto the floor. Rather than laughing at the honestly hilarious situation, Red carefully picked his way across the floor until Razz was in his arms, one hand holding the slightly smaller skeleton’s skull to his chest.

 

“I’ll help ya clean it up, ‘kay babe?”

 

 

 

**Car Radio- Twenty One Pilots**

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=92XVwY54h5k>

 

His sockets narrowed, the child standing before him covered in a layer of dust that looked thick and irritating. A small, gleaming knife was held in their small hand, looking almost like a toy. They took a few steps closer, the fog surrounding the both of them making the scene almost ominous.

 

Papyrus smiled. Of course they had chosen this path again. He doubted they had truly gotten to everyone the last round. Made for a bad route. With a sigh he took a step forward himself, sockets closed, breathing in the clear, chill air. How he hated that Sans always watched this part.

 

“I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE SOME WORDS TO SAY TO YOU!”

 

 

 

**Handlebars- Flobots**

[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HLUX0y4EptA ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HLUX0y4EptA)

 

It was freeing, exhilarating even. The wind whipping past his bones, making his leather jacket jerk in the strong breeze. The highway was always empty this time of night, making these high speed drives all the better. No one around to judge him for being a monster, no one around to stop him from being himself. No one in his way.

 

The grin on his face widened as he kicked the speed up a notch, the engine revving with a roar that made his bones shiver.

 

There really was no better feeling than this.

 

 

 

**Guillotine- Jon Bellion**

[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FpEX_TV3M_M ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FpEX_TV3M_M)

 

A step here, to avoid the creaky floorboard. A slight lean there, to skirt around the edge of the wall. A shift of his arms, to keep his precious burden close to his chest.

 

Sans had fallen asleep in the middle of their movie night, as much as he had wanted to stay awake. Fell hadn’t minded, even helped his small boyfriend along with a few choice projections of care and love. Soon that adorable little snore had started up and Sans was lost to the world, only to wake up when Fell deemed it necessary.

 

Fell smiled softly as Sans shifted further into his black sweater, the soft material making for a convincing pillow. “Give me a moment darling. We’ll be in bed in a second.”

 

His sockets widened as Sans grinned in his sleep, a mumble of affection leaving his slightly parted mouth. Fell would never admit to the dusting of red on his face at the sincerity of the declaration. Leaning down, he left a small peck of a kiss on the other’s skull.

 

“I love you too, Sans.”

 

 

 

**Lone Digger- Caravan Palace**

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LCfTMzsf9q8>

 

The walls were vibrating with the deep tones of music that flowed throughout the entire building, the thrumming making Razz’s bones tremble even as he grinned with a manic air. He adored coming to this particular club, the general vibe of it welcoming to those even with a less than pure past. If he was honest, it was a fantastic feeling, not being judged for the kind of person he was. He knew his sins, he didn’t need everyone reminding him of them.

 

He was sure Fell felt the same, with how often the other accompanied him here. Looking over to his companion, Razz smirked as Fell caught his eye, lifting his drink in a cheers before downing the whole thing. Fell smirked in return, taking up the challenge and downing his own, face scrunching at the burn even as he smiled in satisfaction.

  
They would end up blackout drunk before midnight and it was fucking _fantastic_.


	16. Batch 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I found a prompt thing with different sentences to use. I'm going to post two at a time, and there's 50, so it'll take a few chapters lol
> 
> Enjoy ^^

**“Don’t you say that...not you.”  MapleKetchup**

 

“You ever just wish that you could take a break from existing?” Sans looked across the couch, his currently open-mouthed boyfriend staring at him in shock even as Sans shrugged. “Just for a little bit, I mean. Sometimes shit’s hard.”

There was silence for a long moment, Slim looking him up and down as if trying to determine if he was physically hurt. Sans stared back for a few seconds, but finally looked away, staring off into space. 

“Just uh...just forget I said that. Bein’ an idiot.” He scratched the back of his skull, hoping Slim would let it go. The other came from a much more violent universe; if anyone would ever have thoughts like that, surely it would be Slim, rather than Sans.

A flurry of movement startled him, Sans finding himself manhandled against the other’s chest, long arms encasing him. He sank into the warmth, closing his sockets, though they popped right back open as Slim spoke, his voice almost angry.

“Don’t say that shit...not you. Do you know what would happen if you just gave up?” The implications (unspoken words) made Sans wince. Wrapping his arms around his boyfriend, Sans closed his sockets against the hot tears that pooled in them.

“‘m sorry.” The arms holding him just tightened, Slim leaving a small clank of a kiss on the top of his skull. He supposed that was an acceptance to his apology.

Slim really was too good for him.

  
  
  
  


**“I know it’s three in the morning, but I can’t find my cat.”  HoneyKetchup**

 

He jerked in place, the somber tones of the Macarena playing by his skull forcefully pulling him from a, for once, deep sleep. Blindly slapping at the damn device only lead to the unfortunate consequence of the fucking thing falling in the floor, farther from his reach.

Stretch sighed, resigned to his fate of getting screamed at by whoever was calling at an ungodly hour (there were only a few possible suspects and  _ all  _ of them screamed when they were angry). After a few, long moments the sound blessedly stopped, the room silent once more. Stretch couldn’t help but grin in relief, his skull pressing further into the comfort of his pillow. 

In just a few moments, he would be asleep once more, gone from the world, floating in the void of his mind, blissfully unaware of the misery around him…

“ _ DALE A TU CUERPO ALEGRIA, MACARENA, HEEEEEEY MACARENA _ ”

Stretch all but fell to the floor in his haste to get the damn phone, the loud tones of his ringtone echoing throughout the room and, undoubtedly, throughout the house. If this shit woke his brother up, Blue would be so pissed. 

Finally getting the damn thing off the floor, Stretch nearly yelled his greeting. “Hello yes what?!”

“Nice hello there, babe. Did I uh...did I wake you up?”

Stretch sighed in relief, slouching down into his usual posture. Sans wouldn’t get mad at him for not answering the first time. But it also begged the question: why was Sans calling so late at night? “Yeah, but it’s fine. What’s up?”

There was an awkward silence on the other end as Sans seemed to try to decide if what he needed was really all that important after all. Stretch waited patiently for his boyfriend to make up his mind, sockets blinking every little bit.

“I uh… I know it’s three in the morning, but I can’t find my cat.”

Stretch grimaced, an image of Sans’ “cat from hell” flashing through his mind, but the genuine concern and fear in Sans’ voice made him pause. Sans really did love his cat, as annoying as the thing was, and Stretch would be damned if he told the skeleton he loved that he wouldn’t help him find it.

“I’ll be there in a few, babe.”


	17. Clawed Wings (Fellcest)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a little bit of inspiration reading some of the RebornTale stuff floating around here recently, and I love me some Rare Shit, so I thought, how about some RebornFell?
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter Tags: On the Surface, Rebornfell, Fellcest, Marking, Angel Papyrus, Demon Sans, General Cursing

It was a trivial annoyance at best. At least, that’s what Papyrus tried to tell himself. Being followed by a demon was no new occurrence. Most of them wanted to capture him, break his will. Make him one of their pets. It was almost a game for them, see who could finally take down the Great and Terrible Papyrus. He was much to strong for any of them to take on alone; they figured that much out with the first few demons he perished without a second thought.

He may be an angel, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t take care of the trash that had the gall to attack him.

Really, the whole Angels versus Demons mess was just that; a giant chaotic mess of both sides fighting over human souls. Angels to protect, demons to destroy. Papyrus really had no interest in the humans. Maybe it had something to do with his previous life, who he was before he became what he was now. But Papyrus had no love for humans. No interest in fighting off demons from their goal.

Most of his time he spent in the woods surrounding the mountain he’d awoken in. It was peaceful there, beautiful in some places. And since most were drawn to the towns and cities that dotted the landscape, far and wide, it was a rare occurrence that someone tried to challenge him anymore.

Papyrus had stopped by a small lake, savoring the way the waves brushed over the sand along the shoreline, and how the sunlight glinted in the water, when he felt the first pulses of a presence nearby. There were obvious differences between a demon and an angel just from feeling their souls, but it had taken him a moment to place what the intruder was.

He chalked it up to the distance still remaining between them.

He had hoped that perhaps the other either wouldn’t be able to tell he was there, or that they would simply ignore him. Papyrus had no desire to fight another damn demon only looking to break him. Much to his displeasure, the presence grew stronger, whoever it was slowly but surely making their way to where he stood.

Papyrus sighed. His own presence was known to be a little potent, his natural power stronger than that of most angels he’d met. It didn’t help when he just wanted to be left alone, but maybe with a few well placed attacks the other would be persuaded to leave him fucking be.

“If you don’t want to breath your last breath, I suggest you turn the fuck around and leave.” His voice was a growl, not necessarily deep, but guttural. Warning. There was a heavy chuckle behind him, whoever the demon was taking a few steps out onto the beach.

“Finally found you, ya bastard. Ya know how long I had to look for ya?”

Papyrus startled at the voice, turning to glare at his unwanted visitor, recognition in his eyelights. 

“Sans you fuck!”

Sans the demon just laughed heartily, unconcerned with being attacked by the taller skeleton. Papyrus growled, crossing his arms in disgust.

They had met, Underground. Right after Papyrus had been reborn, he had discovered a small skeleton weeping over what looked to be a replica of his scarf. Assuming that perhaps this was someone from his forgotten past, Papyrus had followed them when they finally left the cold, white place. Comforting others was not high on his list of things that he should be doing, but he felt compelled to stay beside the skeleton. Make sure that he would be alright.

After a few weeks, Sans had finally made his way to a massive Hall, golden light spilling through the windows and onto marble flooring that looked quite amazing to Papyrus.

The Hall hadn’t stayed that way.

Once the battle was done, the strange human with a crimson soul making their way past the fallen skeleton and through a pair of doors farther down the path. Papyrus had stayed at the skeleton’s side, surprising himself by shedding a few tears of his own as the other slowly dusted. He hadn’t heard his final words, but the look of peace covering his face had filled Papyrus with hope.

The hope had faded as soon as Sans returned in his new form.

Papyrus had left the rather annoying, easily angered demon to his own devices; clearly the other did not remember what had happened, just like he did not remember his own past. It would do no good to try and tell him anything. That wasn’t who he was any longer.

Papyrus was an angel. Sans was a demon. Who were they before was of no consequence.

But now, it seemed that the damn scoundrel had been searching for him. For who knows how long. The though grated at Papyrus’ non-existent nerves.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Sans. Aren’t you supposed to fuck off and find some human soul to absorb or something?” His tone was biting. Unfortunately, Sans didn’t seem to mind so much.

“I’m so touched you were worried about me, sweetheart. Makes my soul all warm and fuzzy and shit.” The demon’s grin was absolutely shit-eating. Papyrus sighed.

“I wasn’t worried about you. You can perish for all I care, if it will get you to leave me alone.”

“Now we both know you don’t mean that. Right Papy? ‘Sides, you wouldn’t dust me if I was to give away your position to every demon from here to Ebott.” The demon’s eyelights flashed dangerously, the crimson glowing like flames.

Papyrus gaped. “You wouldn’t. You’re a fucking liar and a coward, like hell you’d do something like that at the risk of your own life!” At least, he sincerely hoped so.

Sans shrugged. “I would. All ‘m here for is a nice, polite conversation and quite frankly, you’re the one bein’ rude. Thought I was supposed to be the demon here.” Sans’ grin only grew as Papyrus growled once more, taking another few steps towards the angel. Papyrus backed up a step of his own, keeping the distance between them.   
  
“What the fuck do you want, Sans?” Papyrus was done with any word games the other might try to put him through, he wanted the other to just  _ leave _ . Sans seemed to study him for a moment, his grin turning more thoughtful.

There was a flash of darkness and suddenly the other was on top of him, pinning him into the sand, infernal magic holding down his form, keeping his wings against the ground instead of flailing to get him upright as they should have been. Papyrus hissed and snarled, fighting against the demon holding him down, only to have his wrists taken away from him, pinned above his head.

A harsh bite to his collarbone made him cry out, his fight stalling as the other’s magic seared into his bone. There was a deep chuckle against his skull, Sans sitting up to look down at him properly. Papyrus couldn’t help but tremble as one of Sans’ hands wrapped around his throat, warning him away from trying to fight any longer. 

“What do I want, Papyrus?” Sans smirked, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

“I want you to be mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I have a [Tumblr](https://queenofbiscuits.tumblr.com/)? That I reblog shit on? And sometimes post things, like fics.
> 
> So if anyone who is **18 or older** (its 18+ only guys sorry) wants to come yell at me, get some spoilers, or just chat in general, come on over ^^
> 
> Also general note: Comments makes the content come faster :D


	18. Incredible (Spicyhoney or Edgeberry)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A gift for my good friendo Ollie, after we were talking about sappy soulmate AUs lol
> 
> Hope you enjoyed Ollie ^^
> 
> Chapter Tags: Sappy Soulmate AU, Soulmate AU where the time until you meet your soulmate is counted down on your arm, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, Underground, Angst sorta?
> 
> enjoy?

He sat on the edge of his mattress, red leather gloves laid out next to him, his right hand resting in his left. The numbers seemingly stenciled into the white of his ulna were slowly counting down, the crimson magic surrounding them flickering and flowing over his bone. He watched the numbers for a moment, counting down in his head as he reached the next full hour.

 

Something was going to happen today. Whether he dusted under the blade of one of the desperate for power, or he found what was  _ supposed  _ to be his soulmate, something was going to happen. There were six hours left, only enough time to get his lazy brother out of bed and to his sentry station. Enough time to make certain Grillby would take care of his brother should the worst happen. Enough time to make his rounds one last time.

 

Because no matter what happened, Papyrus was certain that after today, nothing would be the same any longer. Whether he met his, honestly  _ overdue  _ fate, or he met who was to be his partner, things would change.

 

Papyrus sighed, pulling on his gloves as he stood from his bed, the long, supple leather covering the slowing declining numbers on his arm. He hadn’t told Sans how close fate was. Hadn’t wanted him to worry. With a final sigh, he glanced in his mirror, taking stock of his appearance. Nodding in satisfaction, he turned to his door, swinging it open and making his way to Sans’ room. 

 

No reason to let the day go any differently than they usually did.

 

~.~

 

Papyrus sighed as he let the heavy wooden door to Grillby’s thud shut behind him. All it had taken was a request to speak in private and a flash of the numbers steadily decreasing on his arm for Grillby to understand what it was he wanted. The flame agreed that, whatever happened, Sans would have somewhere safe to call home.

 

It took some of the heaviness from his soul, even as he began to make his way down the path through Snowdin Forest, pace swift. He’d prefer to spend what little time he had let with his brother, assuming the smaller was actually at his post like he was supposed to be. His older brother always enjoyed being exactly where he wasn’t wanted.

 

He passed the dogs’ posts, ignoring them all in favor of keeping his stride. Would they stay loyal to Undyne once he was gone? Would Snowdin stay the relative safe haven that he’d worked so hard to make it? Or would monsters use his absence as an excuse to slip back into the way things used to be?

 

All he’d wanted to do was make it safe. To have a place where children could play without feeling scared. To have a place where monsters didn’t feel like they had to keep up their aggression to survive. Would all of it disappear once he was gone?

 

Or maybe he wouldn’t be gone, maybe he would do the impossible and actually meet his “soulmate”. Papyrus huffed, amused at his own thoughts. There were few in their world who found their soulmates. Very few. So few it was almost foolhardy to assume that your time running out meant anything more than death.

 

Papyrus sped up his steps, mind ever focused on the slowly decreasing numbers etched into his arm. If he was to spend his last few moments under this mountain, he would do so with his brother at his side. At least, that was the plan.

 

Coming up on his older brother’s station made it apparent that Sans was nowhere in the vicinity. Which would be infuriating on any other day; today it simply put a knot in Papyrus’ soul. What if he ran out of time before he figured out where his brother had gone off to? A quick tug on his glove and Papyrus felt the knot tighten. He had ten minutes left. Ten minutes to find his brother and tell him that, despite everything, he loved him. Despite everything, he cherished the time they’d spent together, even before they’d had the safety of a home. Despite everything...he wouldn’t have wished it any different.

 

Papyrus found himself running back down the path, ignoring any looks he garnered from the various dogs as he passed. If Sans was in Grillby’s he was going to smack him  _ before  _ his brotherly hug. Pushing himself, Papyrus found the stations passing much faster than before, his mind focused on getting back to town, on even making it back to town, on getting to Sans-

 

He jerked to a stop, sliding a bit in the snow before staring down at his pocket with a glare filled with hatred. His phone responded by ringing once more, the tone an annoying mix of noises that his brother had set. Well, at least he’d be able to find out where the hell the other was. Fishing it from his pocket, Papyrus hit the answer key and all but smacked himself in the side of the head as he yelled.

 

“Where the hell are you, whelp?!” There was a breathy chuckle on the other end, Sans sounding breathless as though he had been expending too much energy again with his magic.

 

“Hey to you too, bro, glad to know I’m missed.”

 

Papyrus shut his sockets and took a deep breath, commencing his walk towards town once more at a brisk pace. “I’m serious, Sans, where are you? It’s important that I know.”

 

The heaving breathing left the phone for a second, before Sans returned. “I’m back home, I uh. I actually need you to head back? Something happened, and-” A loud crash interrupted whatever he was going to say, Papyrus quickening his pace as he called out to his brother. There was silence for a moment, before Sans finally answered. “Just get home? Please? I’ll explain once you get here, but-”

 

“I’m on my way now, Sans. I’ll be there in a moment.” Papyrus hung up, pocketing his phone before breaking into a sprint once more, sockets narrowed. It didn’t sound like Sans was being attacked, but that explosion could have meant any number of things. Sans had been into science at one point and still enjoyed doing small experiments in the locked basement, but he wouldn’t have called Papyrus back home unless something had gone seriously wrong.

 

Soon he’d reached town, slowing only a little as he passed the various houses and businesses until the two story house he and his brother shared came into view. He debated checking the main house first, then thought better of it and headed around back to the usually locked door. Turning it swiftly, Papyrus all but slammed the door open in his rush to get inside and down the stairs, only remembering last minute to close it behind him with magic.

 

The basement was filled with smoke, though it had been thinning as it did little more than sting Papyrus’ sockets. He ignored the sensation in favor of locating his brother in the mess of boxes and spare parts that littered the room. He soon found him over by a large machine, which had never worked as far as Papyrus was aware. Sans was kneeling next to something, an empty jug of what looked to be what was left of their sea tea sitting beside him.

 

Papyrus crossed the room as quickly as he was able, stepping over hunks of jagged metal and wires that pointed every which way, kneeling next to his brother as he looked over whatever it was Sans was trying to heal.

 

He felt as though his breath had been stolen as he stared down at two skeletons, both looking worse for wear, in some of the strangest clothing he’d ever seen. The taller was in what looked to be a well worn, bright orange hoody, the smaller in a set of comfortable clothing in shades of gray, and a weathered blue bandana. 

 

Neither had scars, and neither looked as though they’d had to fight a day in their lives.

 

“What the hell.”

 

Sans laughed, though he sounded exhausted. “No idea, boss. Figured it’d be the… mannerly thing to keep alive. At least until we get some answers out of ‘em.”

  
Papyrus knew his brother was joking, but was pleased he’d done what he could to keep their… _ guests _ alive. This would certainly be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so what about that ending huh? It's pretty much up to reader interpretation as to which one of the Swap Bros is Fell's soulmate (and if that wasn't obvious, that was what happened). Either some of that good Spicyhoney, or some of that amazing Edgeberry, it's all up to you guys lol
> 
> Or hey, if ot3s are your thing, they're both his soulmate :D I wouldn't be opposed lol 
> 
> Let me know down below which one you'd rather it be, I'd love to hear your opinions :D


	19. Princey and the Thief (Kedgeup)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I found an AU and Trope prompt set on tumblr and decided to give it a go. I actually got a decent amount of requests (for me anyways lol) so I'm going to go ahead and post them as I go. Here is the first one out of the three I've done so far lol
> 
> Chapter Tags: Fairy Tale AU, Soul Mates Trope, Undertale Sans, Underfell Papyrus, Kedgeup, Tiny bit of angst?

It was a dark satin cloak that the thief wore, the deep hood concealing his features even as he made his way swiftly through the throng of common folk that had all gathered to greet the royals. Sans smirked as a group of tiny children ran past, all yelling and clamoring about the Prince. If only they knew how hard life really was, even with as “gracious” a ruler as their  _ beloved  _ Prince. He shook his head, continuing on his way to the stage of the main event. 

 

It didn’t matter if Prince Fell was as noble and fair as everyone seemed to say he was. It wasn’t as if he had ever done anything for Sans, at least, not before today. The royals always traveled with a sizable amount of gold, for whatever use they saw fit to spend it. Such a score would keep Sans in good health for a good few months, even pay off a few debts. He just had to get in and out while the Prince was busy with the local folk. 

 

Easier said than done, but there was a reason Sans was one of the best. 

 

Sans’ eyelights settled on the large carriage situated somewhat behind the large stage set up for the Prince to sit and meet with everyone. While this was for easier access for the Prince once he’d had enough of talking with the common folk, it was perfect for Sans to sneak in and grab what he needed and get away without being spotted. He carefully began walking in the general direction of the carriage, growing closer with every step but keeping his eyelights on anything but his goal. He paused to map out where the guards were in relation to where he needed to be, and took his opportunity.

 

With a imperceptible flash of magic and a slight cloud of swiftly dissipating smoke, Sans was on the other side of the carriage, away from prying eyes. The latch to the door was quick work, the small skeleton climbing up into the main hold without trouble. A small box with a lock and chain sat in the floor beneath the seats, Sans carefully shimming it out into the open before fishing a lock pick from his pocket. Within a few seconds the lock gave, clicking open and loosening the chains. Sans couldn’t help but smile as he unwound the chains from the small black box, his grin only dropping once he’d opened the lid.

 

It was nothing, nothing more than a red velvet interior. No gold, no letters or papers, nothing. A quick search of the rest of the carriage revealed nothing more, and Sans could feel the frustration building in his soul even as someone cleared their throat from behind him, outside of the carriage. Sans gulped, slowly turning and peeking around the side of the door, only to come skull to skull with the Prince himself. 

 

“Well, thief, I’m not sure how idiotic you thought me to be, but I can promise there is no gold here for you to steal.” His voice was gruff, mature. Sans found himself trembling in fear, in apprehension at being caught by a  _ royal himself _ . “Well? Have you anything to say for yourself?”

 

Sans kept his mouth shut. Speaking would do no more than get him further into trouble than he already was. Instead he began slowly inching towards the other side of the carriage, fulling intending on throwing the door open and running until he was far away enough to use his magic without anyone seeing. A large scarred hand suddenly gripped his wrist, halting him in place.

 

A strong spark of magic passed between them as their bones met, an overwhelming sense of belonging and  _ rightness  _ surging through them both as their sockets widened almost in sync. Sans ripped away his hand, curling into himself as he called on his magic, no longer caring that someone would see him. The Prince reached out to him once more, mouth opening as if to say something, but in the next moment Sans was deep in the nearby forest, his soul screaming at him in confusing screeches. 

 

What the hell had happened.


	20. Spiked Bourbon (Edgepuff)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the second of the tumblr prompt requests ^^
> 
> Enjoy lol
> 
> Chapter Tags: Superhero/Vigilante AU, Forbidden Love Trope, Underfell Papyrus, Undertale Papyrus, Edgepuff, Alcohol Consumption, Referenced Violence

Fell tapped a distal phalange against the side of his glass, the sharp but quiet tinking sound getting the bartender’s attention even through the din of music and people and monsters talking over said music. It was good for background aesthetic, which was surely what the owner of this particular club had in mind when he opened the place. 

 

At least that was what Fell assumed. He didn’t know much about owning a business, much less one so lucrative in terms of entertainment of the night crowd. 

 

He sipped at his refilled glass, relishing in the slight burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat, his red eyelights flitting about the room, taking in the various humans and monsters that passed by, all lost in their own conversations. They were all dressed nicely; he was as well. Nothing suit and tie, but nearly everyone present had on their sunday best. The club didn’t have a dress code that he was aware of, but if he wore his usual fare he’d stick out like a sore thumb. Or at least, more than he did currently. 

 

He’d already had a few curious onlookers who asked if he knew the owner of the club, simply because they were both skeletons. He’d gotten used to it over the few times he’d been there. 

 

The song changed, the music becoming a bit more upbeat as people began dancing towards the front of the club, where a bit of a free range area was set up. Fell ignored them for the door that opened to the side, a three men walking out, two casually keeping the third between them. A smirk crossed his face at the distinctive flash of white bone. There he was.

 

Papyrus, the owner of the Firefly Nightclub, moved boldly through the main throng of people, nodding happily to whoever greeted him and shaking the hands of a few key humans as he made his way through the crowd. Fell watched him all the way until he had reached the opposite side of the bar, Papyrus requesting, the recieving a tall, frothy, colorful drink. The tall skeleton downed half before placing the glass back on the bar, a joyful grin on his face as he took in the crowd, before his eyelights met Fell’s.

 

The smile fell for an instant, before it was back in full force, the other’s sockets seemingly sparkling in the dark. Fell’s sockets narrowed in response. Papyrus seemed to laugh, before he winked, blowing a chaste kiss and smiling before snapping his fingers, his guards stepping directly to his sides as he disappeared back into the crowd. 

 

Fell shook his head, ignoring the slight blush on his face as he  downed his drink and tapped once again for a refill. The meeting wasn’t until midnight, he still had some time. Now that Papyrus knew he was here, the other would be long gone before the other crime bosses actually met together. He’d have some kind of excuse in place, but he wouldn’t warn them. That’s just how the other was.

 

He still had time. Time to sit. Time to plan. Time to ignore anything but what he needed to do.

 

Fell downed his drink.


	21. Whoopies Daisyes (Spicyhoney)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third of the ones I have posted so far lol It might be a little bit before I post the next one, because I haven't done any other the others as of yet. I hope you enjoy ^^
> 
> Chapter Tags: University AU, Under Stress Confession Trope, Underfell Papyrus, Underswap Papyrus, Spicyhoney, Professor Fell, Bartender Stretch, Fluff

Fell sighed, one fist holding up his skull as the other marked a few, stern words on the current stack of papers he was going through. Another, much larger stack was situated at the side, already thoroughly marked with his red pen. He swore these kids weren’t even trying this semester, though he’d seen it time and time again over the years. The closer it got to the end of the year, the more restless everyone became. 

 

He cherished his time off as well, but he really didn’t want to have to teach all these kids again next year simply because they slacked off when they should have been working their hardest. 

 

Sighing as he finally made it to the end of the term paper he was currently grading (the grammar was horrible and the kid went off on tangents every other sentence), Fell set it to the side and stared tiredly at the second pile of papers sitting to his left, all waiting to be read and graded. He’d made it almost halfway through, but the thought of reading one more sentence that began with “Um well, I think that-” made his skull ache. He could already feel the beginnings of a migraine reverberating through the bones of his neck. 

 

Deciding that a break was sorely due, Fell pushed away from his desk, rolling part way across the room before standing from his desk. He took a few decisive steps towards the small couch where his shoulder bag and jacket laid waiting, only for a loud ringing chirp to sound from the phone on his desk. He paused mid step, a loud, heaving sigh leaving him as he turned on his heel and strode back to his desk.

 

“What the fuck do you want?” A low chuckle answered him, Fell’s right eye socket twitching at the voice. 

 

“Pretty sure you’re not supposed to be cursing while still on campus, there, edgelord.” The monster laughed as Fell growled, rolling his eyelights.

 

“And I’m pretty sure you’re not going to report me even if I cursed in from of the students. What the fuck do you need Stretch? I have other things to do than listen to your problems.”

 

The low chuckle returned. “Wow, ouch. Just when I thought we’d made a connection. You’re breakin’ my heart, here.”

 

Fell pinched the place between his eyes, the headache forming with every word Stretch spoke. “Would you please just get to the point, or is that too much to ask?”

 

“Actually I just wanted to know if you wanted to hang out after work, but if I repulse you so much, hey, don’t let me keep you.” The words would suggest anger, but the other’s tone was nothing but amusement. Stretch let very little actually rattle him. It was one of the things Fell liked about him.

 

“Stretch, I love you, but if you don’t fucking leave me alone for one day,  _ one day _ , I will tell the dean about your smoking habits. Don’t test me.” Fell listened to silence for a moment before hanging up, his mind almost instantly back on getting home and relaxing.

 

It wasn’t until later that he really thought about what he’d said, a dark red blush dusting his cheekbones.

 

_ What the fuck had he done. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed, maybe leave a comment? They really make my day and lets me know that someone out there cares about my silly ole writing lol


	22. Stew for the Soul (RottenBerry)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First RottenBerry I've ever written lol This is the fourth of the Tumblr Requests, got a few more to go other than the second parters. I hope you enjoy ^^
> 
> Chapter Tags: Reincarnation AU, Implied Resets, Amnesia Trope, Soul Mates Trope, Underswap Sans, Swapfell Sans, RottenBerry, Fluff

A large pot sat on the stovetop, thick broth boiling and sending copious amounts of steam into the air. Blue stood over it, face set in concentration as he began sliding the diced pieces of carrot into the pot. The tiny splashes made it nowhere near his gloveless hands, the task completed within a few moments as Blue backed away, a satisfied smile on his face. His guests would be home soon, and would hopefully be a little more receptive to his offer of a truce today.

 

The smile slowly dropped, turning into a small, tight frown. It wasn’t that it was all that difficult dealing with a double of his brother and himself, and it wasn’t that they were...discourteous beyond all reason. He was used to dealing with monsters that just didn’t want help in the form of that ragged group of teens that liked to hang out deep in Snowdin Forest. He was almost positive those kids were living out there, in the cold, but there was little he could do when every time he tried to help them, they would only attack or try and run off.

 

In all honesty, Razz and Slim reminded him quite a bit of those kids. Desperate, angry, and willing to do anything to survive. Their LV was telling of what kind of lives they’d led in their home universe; he wasn’t naive enough to believe that it had all been acquired through self defence. He also didn’t judge them for it. Not like the other monsters of his own universe. Sometimes monsters just didn’t try to see past someone’s mistakes.  

 

He was aware of the other standing in the doorway of the kitchen a few seconds after he’d arrived there, his double standing in almost an almost formal stance, eyelights flitting over every surface and fixture in the kitchen. The glare would have been disconcerting if Blue hadn’t been subjected to it for just about every moment when they were in the same room for the past two months. As it was, Blue simply finished chopping the chives that he scooped into the pot before turning to clean up what little mess there was on the counter as the meal finished cooking.

 

“Good afternoon, Razz! You got back just in time, this stew will be done in a few minutes.”

 

If the other was surprised by his observational skills he didn’t show it, taking a few steps further into the kitchen before standing in a near pose, arms crossed over his chest and hip cocked to the side, sockets narrowed in mild suspicion. 

 

“How do I know that you didn’t poison it in our absence, whelp?”

 

Blue turned and smiled, ignoring the moniker in favor of showing off the paper he’d kept this particular recipe on for the past several years. “I have all the ingredients I used listed right here! If you don’t believe me you’re free to look around for any poison I might have, though I can promise there isn’t any.”

 

Razz simply stared at him for a moment, sockets narrowing further before he ripped the paper out of Blue’s outstretched hand, giving him a warning glance before beginning to pore through the list. Blue waited patiently for him to finish, his smile only growing wider as Razz went from coldly suspicious to mildly interested at the ingredients themselves. Soon enough the harsher of the two skeletons handed the page back with less venom than it’d been taken, his face a mixture of cautious curiosity and naked interest. Blue couldn’t help but chuckle a little to himself as he put the paper back in the binder he’d made for all his recipes, listening as Razz made his way over to the pot, looking carefully over the edge of the metal rim, eyelights a little larger in his fascination.

 

“Would you like a taste? It’s just about done anyways.” Blue held up a large wooden spoon that was stained with years worth of stews and other foods, Razz eyeing it with distaste before his desire to try the food won out over his hesitance. Grabbing the utensil with a little less strength, Razz spooned up a bit of stew and tentatively put it to his teeth, sipping slowly before his sockets went half mast, a pleased expression replacing his tense features.

 

Blue grinned in triumph, even as a wave of nostalgia and deja vu overwhelmed him. Hadn’t he seen this look of pure satisfaction on Razz’s face before? Hadn’t they cooked like this for each other before, hadn’t they perfected this very recipe on a cold winter’s night when their brothers were out of town and they had nothing else to do-

 

“Are you going to take back your spoon or not, whelp?” Blue blinked as Razz all but shoved the now licked clean utensil in his face, shaking it a little to get his attention. He took it, holding it in one hand for a moment before he rinsed it off in the sink, shaking off the strange place his mind had went. His grin was back in just a few moments, the spoon back in it’s place as he turned to Razz, hands clasped.

 

“So, what did you think?” he asked, watching as Razz seemed to become more rigid as he prepared to give his critique. A strange sense that this wouldn’t be the first time this happened passed through him, but he ignored it, listening as the other began listing off everything wrong with the dish and what he would change.

 

Somehow, he didn’t mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked, consider leaving a comment? They really make my day ^^


	23. Flirting with Death (ServantFell)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have no self control and I made an AU named Flirtfell (you can thank Kit for the name). If you'd like to see certain situations or learn more about the AU, feel free to ask any questions you have.
> 
> Let's meet Braise and Spark.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy
> 
> (AU is now called ServantFell)

Snow fell silently as Blue crunched ahead, Stretch a step behind him. Even with the more moderate temperatures in the Taleverses, it was a chilly evening, a storm setting in to bury everything in a white blanket. Why the others has decided to go ahead with the sleepover was beyond Stretch, but Blue wasn’t one to miss a hangout if he could help it. The lights from the house shined through the flakes, Stretch shuffling along as they finally came up to the front door, Blue knocking firmly twice. There was a short conversation on the other side before the door finally swung open, Sans standing in a thick sweater that looked, surprisingly, homemade. Not that the craftsmanship was shoddy; the name Comic Sans was embroidered along the front in large, bubbly letters. Sans looked tired, as if he was already done with the noise.

 

“Hey kiddos. Get inside before ya freeze and Paps has my tailbone, Blue.” Blue thanked him and stepped inside immediately, greeting whoever was in the living room as he began peeling off his layers. Stretch stepped forward to head inside as well, only for Sans to move outside, shutting the door behind him and looking up with a serious expression.

 

“It’s a little to cold out here for serious conversations, isn’t it bud?” Stretch joked, though Sans just snickered lightly, his hands resting his his pants pockets.

 

“Just wanted to give you fair warning. Your brother already met them, so I’m not worried about him, but…” Sans shrugged, looking back to the house. Stretch frowned.

 

“Find someone new?”

 

Sans shrugged again. “A couple. They’re...different. Just wanted to warn ya before you started a fight you won’t win.”

 

Stretch stared at him, sockets narrowed, before he grinned. “Like I’d do that. Paps’d have my hide if I broke something.” That made Sans chuckle, his grin widening as he turned back to the door, waving for him to follow. Stretch followed him inside even as he thought about the warning; what the hell kind of skeletons were they? Sure he hadn’t gotten along with Fell for the first several months, but they’d never actually fought.

 

They’d gotten close a couple times, but that was mostly his own fault. 

 

The living room was set up with mattresses and bedding, the large TV setup on the opposite wall, an old MTT movie playing on silent. Slim and Red were already set up on the beds, sitting up and playing what looked to be poker. There was a third hand sitting where someone might have been sitting, though neither of the Fellverse monsters seemed to be sneaking a look. It was unusual for them to not tempt fate and cheat, especially when Stretch was playing and had to leave in the middle of the game. Too many times he’d come back to different cards or to them winning in just a few hands because they knew what he had.

 

For them to not even try with whoever it was they were playing against...had they talked Fell into playing?

 

It sounded like everyone else was in the kitchen, loud exclamations and the smells of food being prepared coming from the shut door. Stretch stared at the door to the kitchen for a moment, considering just getting the first impressions out of the way, but decided maybe it would be better to get Red and Slim’s verdict of the new monsters before he did.

 

“Sup, Stretch, wanna join? Always happy to take yer g.” Red snarked, barely looking up from their game as Slim placed another small bag of gold in the pile between them. Stretch plopped down beside them both, sitting cross legged as he watched, amused.

 

“No thanks, I’m good.” Stretch grinned as the other two snickered. He watched them play for a while, before a particularly loud sound came from the kitchen, Sans getting up from his nap on the far mattress to make sure nothing had caught on fire. Stretch watched the door swing shut before he turned back to the game. “So what’s up with the new guys? Sans gave me the talk before I came in.”

 

Both of them stopped for a second, eyelights flicking to the waiting hand still sitting on the bed beside them, before they went back to their game. 

 

“There’s not really that much ta say. Fellverse, the both of them. Bit rough around the edges, but so are we.” Red spoke with little care, as if talking about the weather. Slim just nodded, more focused on the game than what Stretch had asked. That was probably a good sign; if neither of the protective older brothers were concerned about the newcomers, then that meant that they were probably okay.

 

Stretch sighed. While he really just wanted to put it off as long as possible, he might as well get it over with. Getting laboriously to his feet, Stretch shuffled to the kitchen door, smirking half heartedly as the two assholes behind him started loudly arguing (“I won!” “No you fucking didn’t, you cheating asshole!”). He listened for a moment, then pushed the door open and stepped inside.

 

It was almost instantaneously overwhelming, the sheer amount of skeletons in the rather small kitchen. Fell and Papyrus were at the sink, washing up what dishes they’d made from cooking dinner while they waited for it to be done cooking. Razz and Blue were standing at the table, preparing what looked to be a few different desserts for after dinner. Sans seemed to have disappeared at some point, probably upstairs sleeping away from the noise.

 

But the two that took up the most of his attention was the two darkly dressed skeletons standing over Blue. The two  _ Papyruses  _ standing over Blue.

 

They were from a Fellverse alright. Stretch didn’t even have to feel their LV to know that. But there was something about the two of them that put him immediately on edge. It was a similar feeling to how he first felt about Fell, so he tried to push it down. He could be wrong. They could be fine. But he wasn’t going to take the chance.

 

“And then you mix the dry ingredients together, like this.” Blue was busy whisking what looked to be flour and baking soda together, another bowl set to the side with a brown mixture of the liquid ingredients. The slightly shorter Papyrus was watching intently, even holding a small notepad and rapidly jotting things down as he watched. It was almost endearing, how focused he was on what was more than likely just a simple cookie mixture. 

 

The taller was watching with a smile, his hands in his jeans pockets. His red eyelights were carefully looking from what Blue was doing to who Stretch assumed was his brother. Did they even have a Sans? Stretch couldn’t help but frown at the fact that their Sans, if they had one, had not shown up. Unless he was upstairs as well.

 

“Hey bro, havin’ fun?” He winced inwardly; his voice was unnaturally tight. Blue would know something was wrong if he wasn’t careful. 

 

Blue looked up from his mixing to smile in greeting. “Hello brother! I am indeed; I’m showing Spark how to make sugar cookies!” At Stretch’s blank look, Blue gestured to the shorter Papyrus. “He’s a wonderful cook! But he doesn’t know how to bake, so Razz and I offered to show him how to make a few things.”

 

“Aww, thanks love.” The Papyrus, Spark, leaned down, leaving a chaste kiss on the top of Blue’s head, the Sans blushing lightly. “Such a sweetheart. Right brother?” His voice was similar in pitch to Papyrus’, but was much, much smoother.

 

“I’d have to agree. Both of these cuties are a great help. You’ll be making delicious sweets in no time.” The taller’s voice was deeper, more like Fell’s, but just as smooth as Spark’s. He smiled indulgently to his brother, Spark grinning brightly in return. Both Blue and Razz were blushing, a light coloring on their cheekbones the only sign that they were as flustered as they were.

 

Both of the Sanses went back to their preparations, Spark almost instantly going back to watching with every ounce of concentration he possessed. The other, however, looked to Stretch, his smile growing tight at whatever expression was on Stretch’s face. Stretch stared back, his emotions roiling in his chest. What the  _ fuck  _ was he supposed to make of that?!

 

The two were shameless flirts. Fellverse shameless flirts. Stretch wanted nothing more than to grab his brother and get him away from the two, but he knew how it would be taken by everyone else in the room.

 

Suddenly the taller was standing beside him, arms crossed over his chest even as he continued to watch the other three as they finished up the cookies. “The name’s Braise, sugar.”

 

Stretch wanted to say that he didn’t give a shit what the other’s name was. Instead, he kept his mouth shut.

 

“I realize my brother can seem...overzealous in his affection. He’s a very open monster with those he trusts. And it’s not easy to gain his trust.” Braise kept his voice low, only for Stretch to hear. “It’s not easy to gain my trust either. But your brother...your brother is special. He’s been nothing but welcoming. In fact, I’ve never met a monster like him before. I’d love to get to know him better.”

 

Stretch turned to the other, mouth open to give him his exact opinion of this asshole spending any amount of time with his brother, only to find a pair of deep crimson eyelights staring back at him, locking him in place. 

 

“Your brother does not need your protection. Don’t do something you might regret, sugar. I promise I’m not as forgiving as the edgelord.”

 

Braise held his glare for a moment, then walked back to the others, a large grin on his face as Spark showed him the different shaped cookies they’d laid out on the metal pans. Stretch watched for a moment, sockets wide, before he turned and headed back into the living room. He needed a drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a [Tumblr](https://sansy-fresh.tumblr.com) now that is technically 16+ but I don't post anything NSFW and the only reason the rating is as it is is because I openly curse and there will probably be alcohol/drug mentions at some point. I don't post anything I wouldn't post here. I do headcanon question games, take writing suggestions, and answer general questions, so feel free to stop by.
> 
> Comments would really make my day ^^


	24. Wedding Bells: Poisonpuff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part one of a mini project: 
> 
> Poisonpuff Marriage Proposal as requested by LadyKit
> 
> Chapter Tags: Poisonpuff, Papyrus/Razz, Domestic, (very) Mild Sexual Humor, Marriage Proposal

He had been taking one of his scheduled naps when his brother had knocked on his door, quietly telling him that Papyrus had called and was currently on his way over. While he lightly grumbled that his partner knew perfectly well what his schedule was and was more than likely coming to wake him up on purpose, Razz couldn’t help the soft grin on his face as he got up. 

 

They’d been going out for nearly two years by that point, though it felt like much longer. He supposed that was cliche as fuck to say about your significant other, but in all honesty he didn’t give a shit. The point was that he loved Papyrus. With all of his heart. And if he could spend the rest of his life with him, he would do it in a heartbeat.

 

Razz frowned at the thought, cursing his own selfishness. He and the softer version of his brother couldn’t be together, not like that. Sure Razz had taken advantage of the fact that Papyrus had entertained his silly crush for this long, but long term? Razz would be nothing but poisonous to the skeleton. If he didn’t eventually hurt him, Papyrus would grow tired of his shit some day. It was inevitable.

 

But he could dream.

 

Razz shook off the thoughts as he wrapped his bandana back around his neck, tying it in a simple knot before turning to his mirror. The bags under his sockets weren’t too noticable; if Papyrus  _ did  _ notice he could chalk it up to not having his nap. His scar wasn’t especially inflamed today, so that wouldn’t cause any issue. His bones were a moderately healthy off-white. All in all, Papyrus should have absolutely nothing to worry about.

 

Nodding to himself, Razz turned from the mirror, opening his door and shutting it carefully behind him before starting downstairs, his boots making small clacks on the wooden steps. Slim sat slouched on the couch, remote clicking repeatedly as he tried to find something to watch. His eyelights flicked to Razz before going right back to the TV, bored expression remaining. “I suppose you’ll be wantin’ me outta the house?”

 

Razz rolled his eyes as he walked over, sitting on the cushion beside him. “You know you don’t have to leave if you don’t want to. It’s not like we’re going to be fucking shamelessly on the couch.” Razz couldn’t help the smirk that slowly grew as a low, pale orange blush spread over his brother’s face. “Or the kitchen table.”

 

“Bro, you really don’t have ta-”

 

“Or your bed.”

 

Slim rapidly stood up, tossing the remote back on the couch and shoving his feet into his shoes before heading out the door, slamming it shut behind him. Razz smirked victoriously. Sitting back, he grabbed the remote, continuing on through the channels. There was nothing on Papyrus would be interested in watching (too much gore, too much violence,  _ way  _ too many sexual innuendos). So after a few minutes he turned the TV off, relaxing in the silence of the house. Somehow the quiet was calming, serene. 

 

It was shattered not two minutes later by three loud knocks on the door. Razz opened his sockets, blinking twice, before the knocking continued. A smile growing on his face, he stood, moving quickly to the door and opening just as Papyrus went to knock once more. The taller skeleton blinked, looking down at Razz before a large smile broke over his face.

  
“Hello Razz! I’ve brought a new dish for you to try today!” Papyrus’ voice was chipper, his smile glowing brightly even as he passed Razz to step inside after knocking the snow off his boots. “Guess what it is!”

 

Razz snorted, taking the large glass pan from the other as Papyrus removed his coat, hanging it on the back of the couch. The two of them headed for the kitchen, Razz setting the pan on the table as Papyrus looked through his cutlery drawer. “Is it spaghetti?” He snickered at the unamused look Papyrus shot him.

 

“I told you it was something new, love. Guess again!”

 

Razz laughed, a light plum blush on his cheeks from the pet name. “I don’t know, is it an italian dish?” Papyrus nodded; Razz scoffed. “So I was half right.”   
  
“There are many more dishes in italian cuisine than spaghetti, my dear Razz. What you have before you is a five cheese ravioli in a four cheese marinara. With extra cheese melted on top, of course.” 

 

Papyrus looked smug as Razz’s eyelights lit up, his hands going excitedly to open the container of cheesy heaven. It looked delicious, smelled divine, and Razz almost couldn’t wait for Papyrus to pop it in the oven long enough to warm it back up after the trip. Almost.

 

~.~

 

He sighed, hand resting gently on the larger hand covering his stomach, the two of them reclined on the couch, an old surface movie playing. Neither of them were really paying it any attention, their meal still making them both warm and comfortable as it converted into magic. Papyrus’ breaths were soft, even, and had he not said anything, Razz would have assumed he’d fallen asleep.

 

“Razz?” His voice was soft. So much softer than the voice he used for everyone else. Razz smiled.

 

“Yeah?”

 

There was silence for a long moment, long enough that Razz found himself growing drowsy, his lack of sleep and the large meal catching up with him. His sockets fluttered closed just as Papyrus finally spoke.

 

“Marry me?”

 

“.......yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting these on my [Tumblr](https://sansy-fresh.tumblr.com) before I post them here. 
> 
> I also do Headcanon games and take general questions about pretty much anything!


	25. New Day, New Life (ServantFell)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another part of my now dubbed ServantFell AU, with Braise and Spark. This is a piece of their past, also introducing their Sans. Braise is Paps, Spark is Rus. 
> 
> Enjoy?
> 
> Chapter Tags: Mature, Death (not MCD), Mild Violence, Slavery, Referenced Slavery

The house was a ramshackle mess, the roof sagging in Waterfall’s humidity and the wooden walls swollen with moisture. Sans kicked at a stray clod of dirt, his arms crossed over his chest as he waited impatiently for the monster on the other side of the door to finally get off their ass and answer. He had places to be today, things that needed done before this evening, and if this  _ ingrate  _ did not answer the damn door in the next five seconds-

 

His thoughts were cut off by the creaking of several locks being undone, the dusty wooden door cracking as it swung open on screeching hinges. The monster that stood before him was the epitome of grease and disorder, his general demeanor making Sans’ magic stand on end. He held back a sneer of disgust as the miscreant gave him a smug grin.

 

“I take it yer the one here fer the whore?” The grease ball’s voice was grating, his word usage making Sans’ teeth clench. He couldn’t kill him. Even if he deserved it, even if every bit of magic in Sans’ body sang for this idiot’s dust. Instead he gave a short nod, grimacing as the monster laughed, spittle flying from between rotten teeth. “Fine piece that’un is. Have ta charge ya double the rate fer a piece like that.”

 

Well now he was begging to lose a few more of his teeth. Sans felt his hands clench even as he nodded his agreement. “I suppose you have his papers?” His voice was clipped, impatient. The monster simply guffawed, turning back into the small house and waving for Sans to follow. Watching his step, Sans growled inwardly at the dubious stains covering the floor; most of it was blood and dust. He didn’t want to think about what the others were. The monster lead him to a back room, boxes and boxes stacked in precarious placement, papers all scattered about. Sans stayed in the doorway, watching carefully as the monster looked through a few stacks of papers before taking out what looked to be official Servant documentation.

 

“Here she is. All ‘es paperwork. All ya gotta do is pay me, and I’ll sign ‘em over.”

 

Sans glared at the monster for a moment, before fishing his phone from his inventory. A few taps on the screen later he shut it back down, putting it back before looking to the monster staring at him with a greedy glint in his eyes. “It’s all there. Transferred to your account. Sign the papers and I’ll be on my way.”

 

The monster checked his account quickly, the new amount putting a wide grin on his face. Procuring a pen, he signed over all rights and ownership over, finishing up with a flourish that did not match his personality. “‘es all yers! Good doin’ business wit’ ya!”

 

Sans snatched the papers with an overly anger-filled gesture, the other simply snickering before heading for what Sans could only assume was the room  _ he  _ was kept in. He followed, rage rising in his soul as the monster all but kicked the door open, his grating voice loud in the small, stuffy room. 

  
“Up, bitch! Ya got a new master, ‘bout fuckin’ time too, ya worthless piece a-!”

 

The monster paused mid sentence, his mouth hanging open as several sharp bones pierced his back. A moment of silence and his body turned to dust, leaving nothing to remember but a smear on the filthy wooden floor. 

 

“You do not talk to my brother like that.” Sans growled to the now dead monster, stepping into his dust and grinding it under his boot before letting his magic relax, closing his sockets and taking a deep breath. Letting it go, he turned to take a good look around the room.

 

His eyelights fell almost immediately on the curled bundle of trembling bone on a disgusting mattress, the scars and open wounds he could see making him snarl lowly. Upon seeing that the other was still terrified, he held back his aggression filled magic, holding it deep inside. There would be ways to take out his rage later, when his brother was safe and no longer in this rat’s nest. 

 

“Rus? It’s Sans, baby brother. Can you look at me?” He kept his voice soft, non threatening. It only seemed to help a little, as the trembling slowed to barely audible rattles. A small, orange tinted eyelight stared up at him from beneath grayed hands, the bones making them up thin from years of malnutrition. Sans slowly knelt beside the mattress his brother was on, putting out his hand until it touched Rus’ phalanges.

  
“I’m not going to hurt you. No one is ever going to hurt you again. I promise you.”

 

There was a quiet, hitched sob, the soft rattling increasing as Rus unfolded, still on the bed one second, wrapped around Sans the next. Sans allowed it, holding his brother close. Subtly he felt how thin Rus was, even for a skeleton. With the thin, coarse material that made up what amounted to a smock, Sans could feel every emaciated bone, every harsh scar and break. A noise rumbled low in his chest; not quite a growl as much as a display of his displeasure. Rus simply tightened his arms, unwilling to let go as he sobbed.

 

Eventually, when Rus’ tears had slowed, Sans pushed him forcefully, but gently back, giving him a tight grin as he grabbed a few articles of appropriate clothing from his inventory. “I brought you some actual clothes. Please change into them and we’ll head out.” Getting to his feet, he handed over what he knew now would be too large of a sweater and a pair of comfortable leggings, along with a pair of lace up boots. If Sans had his way, his brother would never look the part of a Servant again.

 

It took Rus a few tries to get the sweater over his head, his arms much weaker than they should have been. Then the struggle with bringing the tighter pants up his legs lasted long enough that Sans helped him, pulling them up quickly and efficiently before tugging the boots on his feet. Rus looked away in shame that he’d needed the help, but Sans simply pulled him to his feet, keeping a hold on his wrist as he lead him out of the house and through the front door. 

 

Now that they were in proper light, Sans was able to get a clearer picture of his brother. There were no scars on Rus’ face or cervical vertebrae, all of the damage hidden below his clothing. His eyelights were a pale orange where they rested in round sockets, much lighter in shade than he remembered them being so long ago. He was lithe, smaller than he should have been but still taller than Sans by two feet at the least. 

 

He’d changed a lot in the ten years they’d been apart. Sans supposed that was to be expected; Rus was just a boy when their father had- Sans spat, pushing the thought from his mind. That was in the past.

 

They’d walked through the damp, twisting tunnels of Waterfall for a few hours before Rus spoke up, his voice cracking and soft from years of little use. “Where are we going?”

 

Sans kept his eyelights forward, rather than meeting his brother’s. “We’re meeting Pap. In Snowdin. He has a safe place we can stay.”

 

There was silence for a while longer, before Rus spoke up tentatively once more, his voice almost afraid. “What...what about father?”

 

Sans almost paused midstep, a growl ripping through him before he could temper it, a wave of regret sweeping through him as Rus flinched, taking a step away. “He’s dead.” Sans left it at that, continuing on with no other comment. Rus followed immediately, only a few steps behind him. 

 

There was nowhere to go but forward.

 

~.~

 

The air around them changed the closer they came to Snowdin, the general humidity and warmth of Waterfall chilling drastically. Soon the tunnel opened up, the soft, wet ground turning to snow underfoot. Rus visibly shivered, holding his arms close to his chest as he subconsciously moved closer to Sans. Sans continued forward, snow crunching beneath their feet, until they came to the edge of the village. Sans stopped in front of the large house on the edge of town, a two story cabin with what looked to be...gyftmas lights, of all things, hanging from the roof. 

 

Rus stared at the different colored lights, clearly starved for any color or brightness. Sans watched him for a moment before going up the short flight of stairs to the front door, knocking twice before checking around their perimeter. Snowdin was no place to drop one’s guard. There were sounds beyond the door, the sound of heavy footfalls walking from inside the house to the door making Sans apprehensive. He hadn’t seen Pap in over ten years. They’d spoken on the phone, but what if he wasn’t actually welcome? What would he do? Where would he go?

 

Sans turned back as the door creaked open, a pair of bright crimson eyelights staring out from the crack between the door and the frame, before it swung fully open. Pap towered over the both of them, a smug grin on his face as he looked Sans up and down. He almost seemed to sneer, before his eyelights flicked over to Rus, his smile dropping. A hand reached forward, pulling Rus inside by the front of his sweater.    
  
“Get the fuck inside, you idiots. You’ll freeze.” Pap nagged as he forcefully maneuvered Rus to the couch, sitting him down and wrapping him in a large, scratchy quilt despite the warmth inside the house. Sans followed, quickly shutting and locking the door behind him before turning to the rest of the room. 

 

Pap had changed more than Rus had. He was taller, taller even than Rus by a foot or more. His eyelights were bright, focused, and a deep shade of red. He looked toned, fit. All in all it seemed his little brother had taken good care of himself in the 11 years he’d been on his own. He was wearing a thick black sweater, black leather pants, and what looked to be combat boots. Expensive clothing for a monster from Snowdin. Sans shook his head; he’d ask later. For now, he needed to keep an eye on Rus. Make certain Pap wasn’t going to give him any problems. Figure out what the hell they were going to do.

 

But there was nowhere to go but forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a [Tumblr](https://sansy-fresh.tumblr.com/) now where I do things. Feel free to come say hi


	26. No Place I would Rather Be (RottenBerry)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was a really spur of the moment drabble (which is why it’s so short), but I know Crushingonsans has been craving some healthy Rottenberry recently. So here ya go. 
> 
> Tags: On the Surface, RottenBerry, Nightmares, Mild LV Talk, Fluff-ish, Mild Angst

He sat up, chest heaving for breath he didn’t actually need as his eyelights sparked to life, the one floating in his damaged socket sparking as his magic tried to activate. He wasn’t in danger. He was home. Razz inhaled, breathing in the cool night air that blew through the open window, billowing the curtains every so often. He gripped the sheets pooled around his waist, the soft, silken feeling grounding him. Slim was staying the night at the Fell’s, both the asshole and the dickprince having invited him over for some kind of game. Stretch was out, probably drinking, possibly on a date, despite the late hour. And Blue…

 

Razz turned his head, staring down at the peacefully sleeping skeleton beside him, his husband thankfully still deep in his slumber. If he’d woken him up…he shook his head. Blue wouldn’t want him thinking like that. He gingerly traced a sharp phalange down his mate’s cheek, a soft smile taking the place of the nightmare induced frown he’d been wearing. Blue was too good to him.

 

If he was honest with himself, Blue was too good  _for_ him. He should have chosen someone without LV, someone without the about of baggage Razz claimed. But…when Blue had asked, Razz had been unable to deny him. Unable to tell the brighter version of himself no, unable to do what was right once again. He was selfish. He always had been.

 

Razz sighed, pushing the covers down before he slipped back into bed, curling closely around Blue’s limp frame. Blue loved him despite it all. Despite his LV, despite the innumerable monsters he’d killed, despite his anger issues. Despite the nights he’d wake up in a cold sweat, hands around the throat of his attacker until he recognized the baby blue eyelights that welcomed him home.

 

Pulling Blue to his chest, Razz breathed in, taking in the smell of bones and the soap his mate always used, something citrus and fresh. It was his scent, something uniquely him, and Razz loved him for it. He wrapped his arms around his chest, nuzzling the back of his neck as the small, fleeting snippets of his nightmare finally escaped to the back of his mind. Closing his sockets, he let his breathing sync to Blue’s; a calm, steady rhythm. He was safe. He wasn’t in danger. He was home.

 

Blue was home. There was nowhere he’d rather be.


	27. Menace (Spicyhoney)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thing I wrote on tubmlr :P
> 
> Tags: Panic Attacks, Hurt/comfort, Angst, Soul Touching (not sexual), Spicyhoney

“Babe, you have to talk to me. We can’t just…” The tired voice fell quiet, a short, exhausted sigh following it. Fell kept still, willing the sobs that wracked his chest to remain silent. He couldn’t let the other know just how upset he was. Couldn’t let one of the few people to truly love him know how broken he was inside.

  
  
“Fell, I can’t…I can’t just let you suffer like this by yourself.” There was a step or two towards the bed, Fell’s soul clenching at the sound as his magic flared.

  
  
“Just get the fuck out!” His voice was shaking, vulnerable. He wished more than anything he had sounded strong, firm. Anything to make the other leave. Anything to keep the rising tides of panic that flooded the walls of his mind to abate. The pressure just kept building, his chest getting heavier, his soul roiling in his ribcage. The other needed to leave now.

  
  
Raising a hand, the Stretch’s soul was turned blue, his body flung from the room and into the hall, the door slammed behind him. Fell took a trembling breath, fear filled eyelights flicking around the room in a desperate attempt to make sure he was safe, that no one was hiding in the shadows.

  
  
It didn’t help. He choked back a whine as he slid off the bed and into the floor, curling into himself as he pressed back into the corner behind the bed he and Stretch shared. Self loathing and pure terror roiled through his being, his soul jerking with every hateful thought and wave of fear that overtook him. Tears streamed down his face, almost unnoticeable except for the hot tracks they drew over his skull.

  
  
He didn’t know he’d fallen into a fitful sleep after that until he woke up, no longer in the floor. He was back on the bed, clothes changed to comfortable ones and a warm comforter spread over him up to his chin. A long, warm arm was draped over his middle, the slow rhythmic breathing behind him meaning that Stretch was still asleep.

  
  
Fell felt tears pool in his sockets once more as he remembered what he’d done, how he’d treated the one he loved when he was just trying to help. He was an idiot, a weak, stupid piece of garbage, he should have never agreed to stay here, he should have never come here, he was-

  
  
Every thought in his mind sputtered out as the hand previously hovering over his midsection gently gripped his soul, not drawing it from his chest but not letting it go either. He felt all the roiling emotion in his head slowly fade away into nothing, his sockets falling to half mast as a serene peace took over. The intent in his lover’s touch was nothing but calmness, quiet. It was a welcome change from the maelstrom of thought and hatred he felt for himself.

  
  
Fell shifted as Stretch nuzzled into his neck, the grip on his soul tightening ever so slightly as the intent slowly changed from peace to a projection of Stretch’s own feelings. His adoration for Fell. That nothing Fell could do would ever turn him away. The fact that he’d already forgiven him for everything. His love for him.

  
  
The tears returned, but this time were out of emotion, instead of fear. Fell blinked as Stretch let his soul go, letting it return to its place and dissipate. Once he’d pulled his arm back Fell turned over, tucking his face into Stretch’s shoulder and letting the tears fall. Stretch wrapped his arms around him protectively, pulling him ever so closer.


	28. Wedding Bells: RottenJoke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have another of these lol
> 
> Tags: Fluff, On the Surface, Slight Thought Anxiety, Razz loves aquariums, Sans loves Razz, Marriage Proposal, Sappy shit

Blue, dappled light shown down on the plush carpet, making little bubbles dance across the empty floor. Sans watched them with a content air, his shoulders relaxed as he sat on the lone bench set up in the middle of the large room. It was always peaceful back here, quiet. So quiet he could almost fall asleep, if it weren’t for the one other presence in the room. His grin softened as he looked up from the dappled patterns on the floor to the skeleton standing in from of the massive pane of glass, vibrant crowds of fish and even a few small sharks swimming past in front of him, all of them flitting between colorful reefs of coral and over pale sand.

  
  
Razz watched all of it with an awed air, his sockets wide and his eyelights blown out as he tried to watch them all. Sans couldn’t help but fall in love deeper and deeper every time they came here, surrounded by tanks of hundreds of fish, with the one person he’d grown to truly appreciate.

  
  
He reached down, patting his side pocket, his grin tightening as he felt the vaguely square shape of the small, velvet box. He’d made his decision weeks…months ago, but he hadn’t found the right time, place. He’d thought maybe when they went star watching, but it had started raining and they’d had to hurry home. Then there was the date they’d had at home, romantic and special, but there had been a small emergency with their brothers and they’d had to call it off early.

  
  
But. Maybe here would be the golden ticket. He looked back up to his partner, his eyelights going soft around the edges. He really did love this loser. But what if Razz didn’t feel the same way? What if he wasn’t ready, what if he would never be ready for that step? The doubts made Sans’ soul feel nauseous, his magic roiling in his chest the longer he thought about it. Maybe he himself wasn’t ready yet. It was a huge commitment, what kind of partner would he be?

  
  
A low murmur came from across the room, Sans’ thoughts derailing as he focused on Razz once more, the anxiety coiling in his soul slowly mellowing out as he watched. The other was staring unabashedly at a large shark that was languidly moving past the glass wall, a single hand resting against the cool surface. Razz followed the beast with his skull, until suddenly, he looked back, eyelights sparkling and a wide grin on his face.

  
  
Sans smiled in return, heaving himself up and off the bench with a low grunt before shuffling over to his lover, now looking back into the deep water. Now was a good time as any. And he had a feeling… it would be just fine.


	29. All Time Low

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a really, _really_ short, angsty ficlet.
> 
> Tags: Angst, Major Character Death, Genocide Run, Open Ending

  
The house was silent, other than the faint creaking of the ceiling fan in the living room and the clock ticking away in the kitchen. Papyrus sat slouched on the couch, his hood fixed over his head and a cigarette dangling from his left hand. His right laid over where his soul would be, fingers clenched around faded blue cloth. The dust had long since settled over his fingers, into his joints. No manner of scrubbing or soaking would get rid of it now, and if Papyrus was being completely honest with himself, he wouldn’t want it to even if he had the option. The dust meant that in some way, his brother was still physically with him. That his older brother hadn’t actually left him in this…hellhole.

  
  
Papyrus sighed, sinking further back into the couch. His sockets stung, but he’d long since shed any tears he may have had to lose. His soul ached, it felt as though it had physically curled into itself, but he was long since used to the pain. Long since used to the utter silence, both in and out of the house. The demon had passed through (a long time ago) just minutes ago. No one was left, no reason to keep fighting. No reason to get off this damn couch and go see if there were reasons left for living. For trying.

  
  
A tired chuckle escaped into the stale air. Nothing mattered anymore. Not without Sans. Not without his brother. He curled further into himself, a few burning tears streaming from his eyes and onto the scarf he held tightly to his chest.

  
  
Nothing mattered. So he would sleep. And maybe, when he woke up. Sans would be back. Maybe when he woke up, things would be right again.

  
  
He closed his eyes.


	30. Glorious (FloofyHoodies)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something I wrote for a headcanon I came up with :D
> 
> Tags: Slice of Life, On the Surface, Librarian UF Sans, Platonic FloofyHoodies (but if you want to take it as romantic i won’t judge), Fluff

Red took a deep breath of the chill morning air, pulling the strap to his backpack more securely on his shoulder. It was early enough that he could still see the dew that covered the patches of grass he passed, his shoes leaving a few wet streaks on the sidewalk. Fell, miraculously, would still be in bed, though the fact that he was sick might have had something to do with it; his little brother wouldn’t usually be up until 8 at the earliest anyways. 

  
  
Lucky bastard got to actually sleep in these days, not that Red really held it against him. Now that they were on the Surface, it was only fair that Fell got to have a bit of a break. Being Captain had it’s disadvantages; personal care being a major one. So no, Red didn’t mind that he was the one getting up at the crack of dawn now, not when his reasons for doing so were so important.

  
  
It was a ten minute walk from the small two story house he and his brother shared to his workplace; at first the commute had been enough that Red had just taken a shortcut to get there. Now he cherished the early morning walk, when it was quiet and few humans were bustling about. It was peaceful, serene. Gave him time to think. Time to just… exist, for a little bit.

  
  
Soon the large building of his work came into view, prompting a small, soft smile to his face. Today was the day he read to the kids, all of their tiny, awed faces making his week. Making all of it worth it. Not that the rest of his job was anything less than perfect. 

  
  
Pushing open the sizable glass doors that made up the entrance to the Ebott City Library, Red shifted the strap on his shoulder once more, heading back to the small staff break room to hang up his coat and scarf in his locker. He was allowed to keep his beanie on, as it wasn’t really a fancy dress-up kinda job. That and one of the kids usually ended up stealing it halfway through Story Time. 

  
  
Red couldn’t help himself as he grabbed a couple doughnut holes from a box someone had left, popping one into his mouth as he pinned his name tag to his sweater. He was the one actually opening today, a few of the others already here but working on a few things both in the kid’s room and with the computers. Armed with a few cleaning products and a rag, he set about wiping things down, straightening things up, and making sure the bathroom was stocked. 

  
  
Pleased with his work, Red nodded to himself as he made his way to the front doors, mind focused on the various books his brother had asked him to bring home as well as how much longer he had to wait before the little tykes would start streaming into the library. His train of thought was shattered as he went to flip the sign to OPEN, his eyelights flitting up just long enough to meet another, off white pair. 

  
  
“Shit!” Red jumped back a bit as he scowled, looking back to make sure no one was watching as he turned back and flipped the other off, his scowl only growing as Slim simply pressed his face closer to the glass. Based on the shit eating grin Slim was sporting, he found this just hilarious. 

  
  
“Fuck you.” Red mouthed before turning to storm back to the main floor. He was aware of a low chuckle as Slim opened the door and finally came in, following him in and around a few aisles.

  
  
This wasn’t the first time the other had come to hang out while Red was at work, though Red was certain that if it was any other job he’d have been fired. As it was, the other librarians simply tolerated Slim’s existence, treating him as though he were Red’s shadow. Which, in some ways, he might as well have been.

  
  
“What was it this time? Bro wake you up too early and kick you out of the house?” Red busied himself with the cart of books that needed to be put back on the shelves, Slim following him around seamlessly. 

  
  
Slim shrugged, though his non-answer may as well have been a yell. Red nodded knowingly even as he continued on. He didn’t mind the other’s presence. A thought made him smile, prompting him to turn and actually look at him for a second.

  
  
“I’m reading to the kids today.”

  
  
Slim’s face lit up, his usual smirk actually softening a bit. Red felt his own grin grow, shaking his head as he chuckled.

  
  
Today was going to be a good day. He could feel it.


	31. Paul and Anne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little cute Twistfell HOAU (Homeowner's AU) drabble I wrote for Lady_Kit.
> 
> Tags: On the Surface, Twistfell Bros, HOAU, Humans are Dicks, Fluff, Some Humans are not Dicks

Twist sat at the window in the kitchen, relaxing in the warm sunlight as he watched the few cars go by, all headed through their quiet neighborhood towards the city it sat on the edge of. Most of the parents and couples and such worked in the city, his brother among them. There were the homey sounds of his little brother bustling about in the kitchen behind him, lulling him into an almost half asleep doze.

  
  
It was the arrival of a gray Dacia pulling into the drive across the street, a lovely human couple getting out with various bags, a few large boxes in the back seat of the car. He couldn’t help but smile at the reminder. “Hey Sans?”

  
  
“Yes Papy?”

  
  
Twist turned from the window, twisting (heh) around in his perch until he could get a solid look at his brother. “Didja hear ‘bout the neighbors?” He watched as Blackberry continued rolling out a fresh batch of dough for cinnamon skulls, a thoughtful look on his face.

  
  
“If you mean that Helen just ruined her garden by planting the wrong kind of ivy, then yes brother, I heard.” Blackberry smiled as Twist snickered; Helen really did have it coming. Twist looked back out the window, the soft smile staying on his face as he watched the couple lug the boxes inside, likely full of possessions.

  
  
“Nope, not that.”

  
  
“Is it about Edward’s newest proposition to move monsters to a gated community? Anne told me about that last week when we had tea.” Everyone knew that by “gated community” the racist bastard meant prison. Where humans could keep a better eye on the monsters. Twist’s magic flared briefly at the reminder, though he shook his head, his stubborn grin remaining. Blackberry finished rolling out the dough, placing the strips over his floured counter and taking out his personal skull shaped, metal cookie-cutter, slowly cutting out the shapes he needed. He frowned thoughtfully as he worked.

  
  
“Is it about the new curfew laws, because I’ve told you brother, if you really want to go out at 3 in the morning to get some celery I highly doubt anyone will actually try to stop you.”

  
  
Twist snickered, his shoulders shaking as he laughed. “Naw, heh. Paul finally popped the question.”

  
  
It went absolutely silent behind him, Twist glancing back just to make sure his brother hadn’t left, only for a small frame to fly into his side, gleeful laughter filling the air.

  
  
“That’s fantastic! We’ll need to bring them some treats as a congratulations, I can’t wait to see them, oh gosh I need to-” Blackberry stepped back, still babbling at a sentence a second as he began looking through his cupboards to see what all he could make. Twist watched with a soft smile on his face before looking back to the small, charming house across the street.

  
  
He’d have to bring them a vegetable tray.


	32. That's Amore: Rottenberry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote some Valentines Day Drabbles, all under the name "That's Amore". This is the first one I wrote, for CrushingOnSans.
> 
> These are all fluff, so no warnings necessary ^^

Blue knocked the snow off his boots, scraping his feet along the now slushy welcome mat in an effort to clean his boots as well as he was able before he headed inside. Opening the door, he kicked them off and to the corner without stepping fully inside, making a mental note to clean both them and their spot on the floor before he went to bed. Shutting the door behind him, Blue took a moment to relax in the warmth of the house, his bones losing their tense stance as it seeped into him. After the moment had passed, Blue opened his sockets, taking a deep breath and moving to head further into the house before the smell hit him.

 

It was savory, slightly sweet, a bit salty, and utterly mouthwatering. There was a hint of spices that he was a bit unfamiliar with, something vaguely like rosemary and thyme. There was also the faint smell of oil in the air, mixing with the other scents and melding them together into a truly delectable scent. Blue blinked, wondering why his house smelled like a fancy restaurant. His brother wouldn’t be coming home until late that night, and no one else was supposed to come over.

 

He finished removing his layers of coats, leaving on his sweater as he moved farther into the house, following the smell to the kitchen. The first thing to catch his eye was the table, set with an off white cloth and his nice cutlery and plates, a few crimson candles set up but not yet lit. On the sides of the table were dishes of food, several sides of mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, cheddar biscuits, and a large platter of what looked to be buttermilk chicken. The spread looked straight out of a cooking magazine, the presentation all but perfect.

 

Blue shook himself out of his shock and turned to the main half of the kitchen, finding Razz standing at the sink, dressed down in a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, one of Blue’s light pink aprons wrapped loosely around him. He was smiling softly as he washed what remained of the dishes, a large stack already sitting waiting to be dried and put away. Blue watched him work, his hands clasped in front of his chest, until finally Razz turned to grab the remaining pot and spotted him out of the corner of his eye, startling slightly before he smiled sheepishly.

 

“Welcome home, darling…” Razz seemed almost nervous, subconsciously drying his hands on the apron as he stared at Blue’s feet. 

 

“What’s all this?” Blue gestured to the magnificent spread of food behind him, Razz’s eyelights all but sparkling as he stepped forward, ushering Blue to his seat before going around to his own. Hands rubbing together, Razz swallowed before speaking.

 

“My brother informed me that you taleverse monsters have a tradition on today’s date. To do things for your mate. So, I thought...a dinner? Might be nice?” Clearly still nervous, Razz met his eyes, a hope in them that he’d done the right thing. Blue could only smile brightly in return.

 

“Well then, let’s not waste your cooking!” There would be many more gestures of affection later. Blue would have to make up the difference, enthusiastically. 


	33. That’s Amore: Mapleblossom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was for ollie_oxen_free

Papyrus was minding his own business, cleaning the windows with sure, even swipes, when a small pebble struck the glass pane. He squinted, making certain there weren’t any cracks from the impact, before looking down to the ground two stories below. Another, slightly larger rock struck the glass, startling him before he scowled, taking a hold of the window’s edge and pulling it open, going to stick his head out to yell at whatever hooligan had thought it was a good idea to throw rocks at a skeleton’s windows, only to yelp and duck as an even larger rock came sailing up and past his head, thumping on the floor behind him. 

 

“Oops…” 

 

Papyrus blinked, before leaning back up and sticking his skull carefully out the window once more. “Slim?”

 

Said skeleton stared up with a sheepish expression, another even larger rock in his hands. As Papyrus’ sockets narrowed, he blinked and looked down at it, dropping it hurriedly before he looked up with a shy grin. “Sorry Paps.”

 

Papyrus rolled his eyelights (or least he would have if he had any), but smiled. “It’s alright. What did you need that couldn’t be said at the front door?”

 

Slim flinched slightly, before turning and looking down the road. “Needed to...show you something.” He jerked a thumb in the direction of the road, Papyrus following the movement with his eyes for a moment before he sighed. 

 

“I’ll be right down then.” Papyrus waited until Slim nodded that he was willing to wait before backing away from the window, shutting it back with a thump. He removed his skull bandana and apron, setting both on the kitchen counter for later before heading for the door. He took the carpeted steps two at a time, heading downstairs and past the other apartments in the building with a growing smile. Slim was still in the same spot below his window as he stepped out and onto the concrete porch, holding out his arm. Papyrus stepped close, linking their arms together before they both started off down the road. 

 

This particular road lead out of town, out into the country past rolling farmland and small patches of trees. Sometimes the two of them would take walks down the road until night fell, always going to a specific spot by a local pond to star watch. The sun shone brightly down as they walked, warming Papyrus up even as he subtly pulled Slim as close as he was able without tripping them both up.

 

Soon they came to the spot they always used to view the stars, only now there was a single blanket set out, the corners a bit messy but the rest of it as neat as Slim was able to get it. There was a large wicker basket set in the middle, along with a bright red cooler. Papyrus felt his smile grow impossibly larger as he turned and gave Slim a chaste kiss to the cheek.

 

He very sneakily did not let on that he saw the marmalade blush spread over Slim’s face.

 


	34. That's Amore: Kustard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another session of fluff, this one for BeckyShecky

Sans closed his sockets, breathing in the cool night air, a mellow grin on his face. Crickets chirped all about, creating a low murmur of background noise that mingled with the far off sound of children playing and adults talking in low tones. He opened his eyes as a hands gently grasped his own, Red settling down beside him on the ratty old afghan they’d set up earlier in the night. 

 

The two of them sat together, hand in hand, as the sun finally set over the far off mountains, casting the rock face with hues of purple and blue, the sky a deep orange even as the encroaching black began to fill with stars. Sans watched with never ceasing wonder in his eyes as the constellations became fully visible, the bright, far off lights twinkling happily at all the families gathered for the event.

 

Red nudged his leg, pushing a bottle of ketchup into his hand even as he tipped back his own mustard. Sans sipped absently, even as he scanned the stars above, picking out which were the far off suns and which were actually planets finally visible to the naked eye. For the harder ones to spot they’d set up the battered telescope they always brought to these events, but it had to be used.

 

Finally, after a good hour of the people around them settling in, the children calming down and sitting with their parents, there were the first streaks of light across the night time sky. Sans gripped Red’s hand tightly, his grin widening as the streaks multiplied, becoming a full comet shower within seconds.

 

The two sat together, marveling at the act of nature, hands tightly clasped together, for the rest of the night.


	35. That's Amore: Spicyhoney

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fluff, this time for CheapBourbon

When Rus woke up, there was already the faint smell of bacon and sausage permeating the air around him. He grinned softly even as he stretched, slowly sitting up to rest on the edge of the bed. Knowing his husband, Edge was already dressed and fully prepared for the day, standing relaxed in the kitchen as he finished making breakfast. Rus could only wonder what today’s apron would be. Edge had a thing for them.

 

Stretching long enough to make his spine pop, Rus stood, heading for the kitchen. He smiled as Edge caught his eyelights, grinning and nodding to the table. They ate without preamble, Rus helping with the dishes afterwards. They moved seamlessly, washing and drying and putting away until it was finished. Rus turned to go back to their room, only to jump at a smack to his pelvis.

 

Looking back, Edge was finishing up the clean up, his manner as innocent as he could manage. Rus scowled playfully before shuffling off. He’d get him back later.

 

He took his time dressing, slipping on an old gray hoodie and relishing in the feeling of the soft cloth against his bones. Once he was done he stepped into his tattered, old sneakers, raising each foot to tug out the backs before he pocketed his phone. Heading out the door, he found Edge waiting for him by the front door, tugging on his gloves, already in his dark leather jacket. They shared a grin, Edge opening the front door and Rus stepping outside into the cool morning air. The two of them walked side by side down the driveway to where Edge’s motorcycle sat, waiting their arrival. 

 

Rus gave his husband a last, chaste kiss before hopping on behind him, soul pounding in his chest as the engine gave a roar, the sound heralding good times ahead.


	36. That’s Amore: Twisted Edgelord

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fluff, for Lady_Kit

“Wake up, Twist.”

 

Dredging himself up from the firm tendrils of sleep that tried to hold him down, Twist turned his skull, looking up with a hazy eyelight to find Edge string down at him, already fully dressed and seemingly rearing to go. A quick look to the clock and Twist all but growled, turning back into his pillow and covering his skull. Four in the fuckin’ morning was way too early, even for him. There was a sigh, full of wearied patience, before a presence sat on the edge of the bed next to him, a hand resting on his spine. 

 

“There is a surprise. I promise it will be worth your while.” Edge’s voice was pitched quiet, though Twist could hear the subtle hope. This meant something to him then. Sighing, Twist went limp, nodding his head. Edge stood from the bed, the bedroom door closing behind him as Twist shoved himself into a sitting position. He yawned, scratching at his spine for a moment before he started getting ready.

 

Once dressed (he was sure Edge wouldn’t appreciate it if he tried to leave the house in just his boxers again), Twist headed for the front room, finding that the house was empty. A moment of silence and he heard the car outside running, Edge likely waiting for him while it warmed up. Shaking his head, Twist yawned once more as he pulled on his hoody, slipping on his shoes before stepping out onto the porch and locking the door behind him. He could tell just by the look on Edge’s face that the bastard wanted to honk randomly just to startle him. He was grateful he decided to not.

 

They’d been driving for nearly an hour when Twist finally drudged up the energy to ask where the hell they were going. Edge just smiled. Another hour passed and, not sure now where the hell they were, Twist asked again where they were headed. Instead of answering, Edge turned on the radio. Twist has half a mind to turn it back off and ask again, but the song playing just happened to be one of his favorites. 

 

Yet another hour passed, but just before Twist was about to ask where the hell they were (the fields had become barren and stretched out as far as the eye could see), they turned off the highway onto an exit that lead to…

 

Twist’s head snapped to the side, his eyelight blown out and socket wide as he looked at Edge, who was smiling victoriously. “They’re havin’ a thing? Today?”

 

Edge, still grinning, just nodded. “I put your jacket in the trunk.” 

 

Twist danced in his seat, a wide grin on his own face as they pulled up to the hangars, a few of the planes already out on the runways. 

 

He knew there was a reason he loved this bastard. 


	37. That's Amore: CherryBlossom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was for LadyPterosaur

It was a quiet day, a strong breeze making the trees shake and leaves tremble all around them. The gravel path beneath them crunched lightly with every step, a few patches of ground showing through along the edges of the path. Red’s eyelights flitted around through the undergrowth, studying the leaves and grass and tree bark- anything really, to distract him from the much larger hand holding his own.

 

Papyrus walked beside him without a care in the world, one hand holding the water bottle they were to share when it was needed, the other almost tenderly grasping Red’s own. Like it was nothing. The tall bastard didn’t even have the decency to notice the faint crimson blush Red just knew had formed over his cheekbones.

 

It’d been Papyrus’ idea for the two of them to take these weekly nature walks, and while Red hadn’t minded at first, Papyrus’ almost constant gestures of innocent affection never failed to make him blush and feel tingly and warm for the rest of the day. Which wouldn’t have been a problem if Red hadn’t been in love with the damn skeleton since he’d met him. He knew nothing would ever come of it; he was the rough, LV ridden asshole from another reality. Papyrus didn’t deserve that kind of shit in his life.

 

That didn’t mean he didn’t pine a little in private.

 

But these little gestures of what had to be platonic friendship were getting to him in ways he was certain Papyrus never meant them to. Red scowled at a butterfly that happened to flutter by, his face still warm and likely still red, when the hand holding his own squeezed lightly. He looked over, eyelights flitting up to meet Papyrus’ sockets. Papyrus stared down at him, the two of them paused in their walk. He seemed to think hard for a moment, debating something in his mind. Red waited patiently, still staring up at his friend, when the moment passed and a pair of teeth were suddenly pressed against his own.

 

The next moment they were gone, a pale orange blush over Papyrus’ own face as he laughed lightly before continuing on, now dragging a short circuiting Red behind him. 


	38. That's Amore: SpicyMaple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fluff was for AliceDragons.

There was a faint shuffling below him, the window just below the edge of the roof opening with a faint thud. Slim watched impassively as two skeletal hands gripped the side of the tiling, Edge pulling himself up with a faint grunt before making his way up to where Slim was perched. He looked away as Edge situated himself beside him, the two of them side by side in the chill evening air.

 

Neither of them said anything. There was only ever one reason Slim came up here, this late at night. It wasn’t to talk. Thankfully Edge seemed to understand his need for silence, for companionship that didn’t rely on conversation. On these nights, what he needed was the empty breeze that carried the night air through and rustled his jacket. He needed the light of the moon that shone down, painting everything in silver tones. He needed the billions of twinkling lights that mapped out the black abyss above him.

 

He needed the simple warmth of the body next to him, banishing the chill from his bones. Reminding him that he wasn’t alone. That someone cared.

 

An arm wrapped subtly around his shoulders, Slim sinking into the added warmth with a faint sigh. This was what he needed. 

 


	39. Horrifically Fluffy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was kinda a challenge to myself, to see if I could make a generally horrifying idea into just fluff. I think I succeeded, but feel free to let me know how you feel about it ;)
> 
> Tags: Horror, Fluff, Skull Horror, Spiders Hatching, Don’t Read This if You’re Afraid of Spiders, Body Horror, Its Fluff

Blue was nearly asleep when the first scritches began on the inside of his skull, near the back of his socket. He ignored it for a few minutes, assuming it was more of the inane tingles he’d get sometimes when the magic based webbing would interact with the thin matrix inside his skull. This time, however, the tingles intensified, something clearly moving around. 

 

He sat up as slowly and gently as he was able, sockets widening as he smiled. They’d finally hatched! Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Blue carefully cupped a hand under his left eye socket, letting the eyelight dissipate as he walked carefully over to the small nursery he’d set up under Muffet’s instruction. The deep box was lined with carefully with more webbing, perfect for the tiny hatchlings to cling to and sleep until he could get them to Muffet.

 

Blue giggled lightly as a faint tickling sensation started at the edge of his socket, one of the hatchlings a little impatient. Blue smiled as he held both hands under his socket, closing the other in concentration as he gently began nudging them out with his magic. First one or two came skittering out onto his palm, huddling together as they took in this new world. He kept nudging, until there was a small stream of them, all crawling and skittering and moving along, pooling in his hands as a small mass of black legs and glittering eyes.

 

Soon they were all quietly in his palms, looking around, at each other, or up at him, clearly curious but tired. Blue couldn’t help his smile as he placed them softly in the nest, watching as they all made themselves comfortable and quickly fell asleep. Carefully closing the flap on top of them box, Blue picked it up, grin widening as he prepared for the trip to Muffet’s.


	40. Sparks (ServantFell)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just another SF drabble, this time showing the relationship between Braise and Spark. They think their relationship is perfect, ideal, couldn't possibly be better.
> 
> We know better.
> 
> Tags: Unhealthy relationships, Dependent relationships, Braise is shifty af, Spark is a sad boi

Braise leaned against the wall by the kitchen door, his red eyelights trained rigidly on the spectacle at the stove even as his body was relaxed, an easy grin on his face. Anyone looking at him from the outside would have thought he were bored. Well, anyone from a Taleverse. Any monster from a Fellverse would take one look at the focus he was giving the two across the room and know he was tighter than a tripwire.

  
  
The thought made him frown softly, even as his brother (his baby brother, the only monster he would die for) let out a joyful whoop across the room. Another successful dish completed then. Braise gave the appropriate congratulations, smiling all the while as the small skeleton in a blue bandana helped his brother set up the table. The other one, Stretch. Would be coming in soon to eat with them. Blue had been…inviting. Accepting. He never touched Spark without letting him know he was about to do it. He rarely ever touched him in the first place. Any time he wanted to ask Spark to do something, whether it be go to the store or check out his puzzles or just make a simple dish, Blue made sure it was alright with Braise first. Especially after the disaster that was the first time. Braise respected that. Appreciated that the smaller version of his brother was smart enough to know better than to treat the two of them like their Fellverse counterparts.

  
  
Stretch was a different matter entirely. The skeleton had been…standoffish. Not rude. But certainly not as understanding as his brother. Maybe it was a difference in intelligence? This was a swapped Taleverse; perhaps the Sans was the one that acquired all the perceptive genes. Stretch certainly didn’t notice every time he drew to close to Spark. Braise did, because every single time it happened his brother flinched. It was not a large movement. He didn’t even really lose the happy grin he usually wore. But Braise knew when it happened. He didn’t seem to notice Spark tense up when he brushed by him, or when he turned a corner too fast.

  
  
He could have forgiven this. After all, it seemed their…lazy alternate just didn’t notice these things. But…there was always the chance that he knew exactly what he was doing. That he was testing the waters, finding where the boundaries laid. And that. Was unacceptable.

  
  
Braise watched carefreely (carefully), as Stretch entered the kitchen, an easy, lazy smile on his face as he greeted his own brother. Braise could see the tension beyond the outward mask of apathy; Stretch didn’t want them here. Didn’t trust them. Or at least, didn’t trust Braise. Which didn’t bother him at all; few were dumb enough to trust him. They all took their seats, the Fellverse on one side, the Taleverse on the other. They ate, both Blue and Braise giving his brother the highest compliments. Stretch remained silent, though he smartly cleaned his plate.

  
  
Afterwards Stretch disappeared off into the house, Blue and Spark taking over cleaning up the kitchen, Braise remaining in his seat, back on vigil.

  
  
It didn’t matter that Stretch didn’t trust him. Didn’t matter that Blue seemed to be trying to grow closer to his brother. What mattered was Spark. That was all.


	41. Day Crystals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some underfell babybones fluff I wrote for alicedragons ^^
> 
> Tags: Underfell Babybones, Homelessness, Personal Headcanons, Soft Angst, Fluff

The day always started off with the same thing. He could time it, the near perfect synchronization of his brother patting his skull with the lighting of the day crystals. Not that they lit much, here in the dank, inky parts of the Underground, but what little light they got was very much appreciated.

  
  
He’d always wake up to the subtle shuffling noises that meant his brother was awake. Something plastic hitting the ground, dingy cloth rustling over the wooden floor, and the soft rattling of young bones soon filled the otherwise silent shack. Then the shuffling would grow closer, the small patting of tiny fingers against the hard floor coming closer and closer until the breathless noises his little brother would make as he crawled around were right beside his skull. It would grow quiet once more, the only sound the small puffs of breath that hit the side of his head every few seconds. Then, as light began filtering through the windows, his baby brother would hoist himself up and on top of his face, taking his tiny hands and patting relentlessly with a happy babble of noises.

  
  
Papyrus couldn’t help the small grunt that left him that morning, even as he grinned up at his baby brother. “Is it time to wake up, Sans? Time for breakfast?” His brother clearly didn’t understand him, even as the smile widened and Sans sat back onto his bottom, arms waving around as Papyrus sat up, brushing himself off. Sleeping on the floor meant dusty clothing in the mornings, though it was preferable to sleeping outside, in the cold. Sighing, he plucked Sans up, clawed phalanges gripping tightly to his shirt as he walked across the room to where their supplies were stored, out of immediate sight. 

  
  
Sifting through their canvas bag of food, Papyrus cursed under his breath. He’d have to make a run soon. Maybe that one shop owner would have forgotten him by now, though who really forgot what a skeleton looked like? Either way, he’d have to try and see what he could find without tipping anyone off. He’d cut it too close last time.

  
  
Sitting cross legged on the floor, Papyrus sat Sans on his lap and a half loaf of bread to the side, turning his brother too him and poking a finger at the hole in his smile. Sans huffed, sockets squinting as he tried to get away, even fussing quietly until Papyrus chuckled, satisfied that the gash was no longer bleeding at the slightest provocation. “Alright buddy, I got some bread for us both. You like that, remember? Soft, mushy bread. Perfect for babies like you.” He smiled as Sans took the first piece out of his fingers, tiny phalanges guiding the small piece of rough bread to his mouth before he began chewing with what few fangs he had, looking up to his brother with wide eyelights.

  
  
Papyrus smiled softly, holding Sans close. “I’ll always protect you brother. No matter what.”


	42. Twice Bitten, Thrice Shy (BraisedEdgelord)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little thing of BraisedEdgelord I wrote a little while ago, posted to Tumblr, and forgot about XD Anyways, have some vampire AU lol
> 
> Tags: Vampire AU, Semi-Graphic Violence, Surface AU, Braised Edgelord, Alcohol Consumption
> 
> (just to be clear, this is Fell and Braise from my ServantFell AU)

His skull nearly throbbed with the deep bass that shook the hardwood floor, lights flashing behind him with a nearly epileptic strobe. Taking another sip of the drink set in front of him, Fell savored the burn of the alcohol as it slid down his magic, a small buzz forming at the base of his skull even as his eyelights brightened. He glanced around the room, a small smirk on his face as he caught his fellow kin staring at him once more from the other side of the building, eyelights paler than they should have been.

 

The poor idiot didn’t even hide his blatant staring, clearly sizing him up as a potential target. Fell just chuckled lowly to himself, turning his back to the crowd of humans and monsters that all danced wildly behind him. It wasn’t long before he heard the low clicking of heeled boots on the floor directly behind him, his acute hearing picking the noise out of the crowd. 

 

He’d expected it. 

 

A body settled in beside him on a rickety metal stool, a low sultry voice requesting a scotch before the other finally turned to look at him.

 

“Fancy a dance?” The strangers voice was smooth, much smoother than Fell had been expecting for a skeleton. Bright crimson eyelights looked him up and down without hesitance, a warm, inviting grin on his face. Fell felt his own smirk growing in response.

 

“I don’t dance much. Prefer the drinks.” Taking a sip to prove his point, he nodded to the bartender. “And the prices.”

 

The other laughed, by all appearances relaxing into his seat, looking for all the world like he was getting drinks with one of his closest friends. Fell could still see the tense line in his shoulders, the edge to his eyelights. “Name’s Braise, sugar.” He was all but purring, finger dragging slowly over the edge of his glass. Fell grinned, raising his own.

 

“Fell. Mind buying me another?”

 

Braise chuckled, tilting his skull as his eyelights flashed. “Never thought you’d ask.”

 

~.~

 

The two of them stumbled along, boots catching along the uneven stone of the alleyway. Fell leaned heavily on Braise, arm wrapped over his shoulder as they both giggled, tripping yet again. 

 

“Didn’t think ya had it in ya ta drink that much.” Fell laughed, pausing for a second. Braise seemed grateful for the stop, if the way he swayed in place said anything. 

 

“You put away quite a bit yourself there, sugar.” The two of them chuckled, breathless and giddy, even as Fell took a step back. Braise looked up, confused, only to be spun around and shoved into the wall, one arm held up just below breaking, something pricking the back of his neck, burning where it touched. 

 

“Did you think I didn’t notice you staring at my neck all night? You must be starving if you’ve forgotten what a hunter looks like.”

 

Braise hissed, attempting to push back, only for the silver lined dagger to press dangerously into his sensitive vertebrae. Crying out, he angled as far away from it as he was able, tears dotting his sockets. Fell rolled his eyes.

 

“What’re you going to do now then? Kill me?” Braise spat, even as he shuffled uncomfortably, staring at the brick wall in front of him. Fell regarded him for a moment, before hiking his arm up a fraction further. Ignoring the hiss of pain, he lowered his voice. 

 

“What if I did? One less of you I have to deal with. One less headache.”

 

It was clear enough that his prey didn’t want to die, bones rattling softly even as his pale eyelights hardened, flicking back to look at him with defiance. “Get it over with then. I’m not going to grovel.”

 

For a moment, Fell was going to do it. The dagger in his hand pressed insistently forward, digging a little into Braise’s vertebrae, his sockets shutting tight as he whined. Then, he pulled back, letting the captive arm loose and putting away his knife. Braise stood there for a moment, shocked, before he spun around. Rather than attacking, which would have been idiotic, but expected, he backed further away, true fear in his eyes. 

 

Fell growled, taking a step forward, his frown softening as Braise all but tripped backwards, scrambling to get away. He watched as the creature disappeared into the darkness, likely making his way to his den to nurse his wounds. Huffing, he dusted himself off before turning and leaving in the opposite direction.

 

He doubted he’d ever see that one again. Yet another one he’d worry about late at night, when the walls creaked and the moon shone through the windows. Still. He didn’t regret it.

 

Turning the corner, he vanished into the night himself, weaving through the shadows, looking for his next prey. 


	43. What Are Brothers For  (ServantFell)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little fluff thing I wrote because Alicedragons and Lady_Kit wanted to see more of my boys.
> 
> Tags: Fluff, On the Surface, Good Natured Teasing, Mild Suggestive Content, Spark is a sly boi

Sharpened fingertips tapped gently against the grain of the table, scarlet eyelights scanning over the glossy pages of the magazine perched on the table top. The other hand held up his chin, lowering every few minutes to flip the page to a new section of masterfully crafted dishes. A smile spread over his face as he spotted a new recipe he hadn’t seen before, hand dropping down to the small notebook set beside the magazine and scribbling down, in the usual illegible scrawl, every detail.

  
  
His train of thought was interrupted, however, by the sharp pop of a nearby shortcut. Someone began to speak beside him, but abruptly stopped as he raised his other hand, finishing writing down the last ingredient, mouthing the words silently as he wrote them. Then, with a small flourish, he set down the pen and looked to whoever it was that had, rudely, entered his home.

  
  
Red stared back at him, hands against his sides as he waited for permission to speak. Spark almost smirked at the thought, though he continued to smile pleasantly. “Red, love, I did ask you to try not to shortcut directly into my kitchen.”

  
  
Spark chuckled as a sweat drop fell down Red’s skull. “Ah, yeah, I uh. I fergot about that, sorry.”

  
  
Waving his hand, Spark looked back down to his cooking magazine, skimming the page as he spoke. “Are you here for my brother, or myself? Because one of the two is currently unavailable.” He smiled as that garnered him a faint chuckle, Red seemingly relaxing a bit.

  
  
“I’m here fer yer bro, actually. We’re supposed ta head ta Grillbz’ today.”

  
  
It was an innocent offering of information, but all it did was make Spark’s grin turn devious. “Is that so.”

  
  
Red apparently didn’t notice, or if he did, didn’t comment on it. Instead he nodded, subtly glancing at the clock set over the stove top. Spark watched him for a moment, then sighed, closing his magazine with a soft fump before standing and walking quickly past a slightly startled Red. Heading through the living room and to the stairs, Spark headed up two at a time, his devious grin growing wider with every step. Socked feet padding over the fuzzy carpet, he made his way to the closed door at the end, taking a short breath before turning the knob and pushing it open.

  
  
Rather than going inside, he stuck his head in the door, grin bright. “Hello brother. Your boyfriend is here to pick you up. Be home by 8 at the latest please, and don’t call me while he’s fucking you. Again.” Before his now crimson faced brother could say anything, he turned and shut the door, heading back down the hall with a small skip in his step, taking the stairs a step at a time before moving smoothly back to the kitchen. Red was still waiting in the doorway, though he turned back to the living room as Braise came downstairs, leather jacket thrown on hastily and face still burning hot.

  
  
Spark almost burst into laughter as he heard Red ask his brother why he was blushing.


	44. The Cat Video Chronicles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something completely silly I wrote for Lady_Kit after a conversation we had with Alicedragons about Twist following Cash around to show him cat videos.
> 
> Tags: Fluff, Kinda shitpost (?), Twist getting into small spaces, Cash being done with life, Cash being a germaphobe
> 
> Cash: Purple Swapfell Papyrus  
> Twist: Twistfell Papyrus

There were some days Cash cursed the universe for giving his brother the ability to shortcut, rather than himself. He’d almost always feel guilty for the thought afterwards, but the guilt was repressed under the anger he felt at being subjected, once again, to the city’s public transportation. His hand held tightly to the leather handle hanging from the ceiling, his body swaying gently with the movements of the bus. He ignored the stairs he garnered from the other passengers, all staring at his dark purple hoodie and dark, ripped jeans, silver chain looping from one of the pockets to his belt.

 

His hand came up to the earbuds situated in his acoustic meati, adjusting them deeper into his skull, the low tones of soundtracks lowly filling his skull with meaningless noise that cut out everything around him. He watched the digital display that rested over the aisle, paying attention as the road they were on changed, until it finally displayed the one he needed. Two stops later and he made his way to the front of the bus, ignoring the stares as he took the steps down and to the sidewalk. Checking his watch, he nodded in satisfaction as he began down the sidewalk, eyelights set on the supermarket.

 

The fluorescent lights made his skull ache faintly even as he blinked, picking up a basket and going over the small list in his head before heading down the brightly lit aisles. A loaf of bread, a block of cheese. He stood contemplating a new knife for a few minutes before moving on, though he thought back to it a few more times as he gathered items.

 

He was passing through the cleaner and toilet paper section as a shortcut farther into the store, passing by a large section of empty shelving when a faint “psst!” caught his attention. Sighing, Cash resolved to ignore it, only for the semi-loud annoyance to continue at a higher pitch than before.

 

Turning to the direction of the sound with a growl, he opened his mouth to snap at whatever asshole was following him when the bright screen of a phone shoved itself in his face. He watched unwittingly as what looked to be several newborn kittens rolled around on a blanket, mewling pitifully with their eyes closed. After a few minutes of this, he finally pulled himself out of his shock, eyelight lifting away from the screen to find a smirking Twist staring back at him.

 

Cash took a moment to appreciate just how uncomfortable Twist looked scrunched all the way into the shelf meant for packages of toilet paper and paper towels, before rolling his eye. “Twist, what the hell.”

 

“I found that video and I knew ya’d love it! Ya can’t tell me ya didn’t like it, Patches, I know ya better.” Twist nodded, a small ping sounding every time the top of his skull connected with the metal rungs above him. Cash watched in morbid fascination before scowling.

 

“I hated it. Fuck off, radish-head.” Turning, he started back down the aisle, throwing up a middle finger to the loud chuckles he could hear behind him.

 

~.~

 

If there was one thing he hated more than having to take the public transport, it was having to use the local laundromat. He avoided it like the plague, the thought of the dingy floors and the moldy walls and the unwashed machines keeping him away better than any other tactic anyone had ever tried.

 

But of course the company he usually employed to launder his clothing was closed for the foreseeable future, and of  _ course  _ there were no other such companies in the nearby vicinity of the city he lived in. So, unless he wanted to go without clean (or, at least, moderately clean) clothing for however long it took for the cleaning company to figure their shit out, he had to use the laundromat.

 

He stood in front of the windows, a shudder running through him at the thought of stepping inside the filthy building. Hands gripping tightly to the bags of clothing he’d brought with him, he lifted the bottle of detergent and box of dryer sheets from the back seat of the car he’d been dropped off in. He ignored the farewell Red tossed him before driving off, squaring his shoulders as he made himself walk forward and into the mat.

 

There were few other people there, all humans waiting for their loads to finish by the double stacked washers and dryers. Chest tight, he carefully kept his eye locked on the closest set of machines to the door, avoiding looking at the floors or the walls. Letting the detergent and box of sheets hover in the air behind him, he opened the washer, shoving the first load of clothing inside before turning back to the bottle of soap, pouring out what it said was the correct measurement of liquid before turning back to the machine, only to startle enough that he nearly dropped the cup.

 

A very familiar phone was in his face once more, this time showing the relativ ely boring video of a cat sunning itself in what looked to be a large empty floor. He stared at it, brain short circuiting for a second before his face twisted into a glare, eyelight moving up to find Twist yet again smirking at him.

 

The position he was in made Cash pause mid-rage, his brow raising as he almost chuckled at the pure absurdity of it. Twist was ass first in the dryer set on top of the washer, feet sticking out just under his chin, one arm tucked almost painfully to his chest while the other was thrust out towards Cash’s face.

 

Twist mimicked his brow raise, nodding towards the phone as if to say “see there, how ya like that?!” Instead of encouraging it any further, Cash dumped the cup of soap into the washer, shutting the door and turning the knob to start it. Crossing his arms, he glared up at an utterly unrepentant Twist.

 

“You’re getting the fuck out of there when the load’s done.”

 

~.~

 

Cash sighed as he carried his now clean bags of laundry up the stairs to his apartment, feet scuffing against the carpet of each step. It’d taken a while to convince Twist to fuck off, the bastard eventually leaving when Cash threatened to buy out every bottle of horseradish from all the local stores and burn it all. It was an empty threat, but Twist had humored him.

 

Setting the bags down next to his door, Cash dug the keys out of his inventory and unlocked the door, all but booting it inwards before lugging the bags inside and kicking the door shut behind him. He left them in the living room, kicking off his shoes and throwing his hoodie on the couch as he passed, heading straight for his bedroom. Once inside he threw off his over shirt, sighing in relief as he laid on his bed.

 

He sunk into the blankets and pillows bought for maximum comfort, his sockets lidding as he brought his phone up and lowered the brightness. After thumbing through a few pages of the local stocks, he checked his bank account and, satisfied enough for the night, turned to set his phone on the nightstand. When he turned back the light of a million suns were directly in his face, Cash hissing as he blocked the light from what seemed to be a phone.

 

Blinking rapidly, he squinted at what seemed to be a compilation of…Sphynx cats? Running around and causing general mischief. The timestamp read 3 out of 10 hours of footage.

 

Slowly turning to look behind the hand holding the phone, he found Twist, face half buried in one of his pillows, grin almost as bright as the light had been.

 

“So…how’s this one?”


	45. Soulful (Edgelord Supreme)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little Edgelord Supreme thing I wrote a lil while back
> 
> Tags: Fluff, On the Surface, Edgelord Supreme, Asking Someone Out

When Fell called him at three in the morning, it was very easy at first to forget that, as a Papyrus, he had difficulty sleeping at night. That, for them, it was simple to forget that other people were often asleep in the ungodly hours of the morning. Instead of getting upset, however, Razz took it in stride, yawning loudly before turning towards the wall with a huff, phone held to the side of his skull.

  
  
“What’s up?”

  
  
There was silence on the other end of the line, as if Fell was suddenly unsure that he wanted to continue the conversation. While Razz was usually exceptionally slow to anger, if this asshole had called him at three in the damn morning only to hang up, he was going to lobster the fucker’s car.

  
  
“…Fell?”

  
  
A voice cleared itself, before speaking. “Could you do me a favor?”

  
  
Well. He was nothing if not to the point. However, favors were a particularly strange thing for Fellverse monsters. One didn’t ask for a favor unless it was important, or was life or death. Razz stared at the wall with a blank expression for a moment before sighing, sockets sliding shut once again. He doubted it was actually that serious, but… “Is this a favor that needs doing right now?”

  
  
Another beat of silence, before, “No, but you’ll need to be here at 6 p.m. sharp.”

  
  
That he could do. “I’ll be over then. Goodnight Fell.” There was a faint murmur of assent from the other end of the line, Razz taking it as a return of his farewell as he hung up, all but tossing his phone to the other side of the room. He didn’t care if Toriel herself called, he was getting some more damn sleep.

  
  
~.~

  
  
His brother had been increasingly annoying the entire day, apparently very aware of the late night phone call and immensely prepared to insinuate everything under the sun about their relationship.

  
  
He was sitting on the edge of the couch, lacing up his boots when Slim opened his mouth, that sly look he got in his eyes shining ever so brightly.

  
  
“If you ask one more time if we “did the cell phone diddly”, I will throw away every bottle of caramel in this damn house.” Glancing up, he found his brother pouting ever so slightly, his own grin sharpening.

  
  
Pulling the strings to his boot tight, he got to his feet, going to the door and grabbing his jacket from the hook; he pulled it on before turning to his brother. “If you’re going to go to Muffet’s, please do not get drunk. That’s all I ask.” Rolling his eyes at the knowing smirk Slim threw him, he turned to the door, opening it and taking a step outside before looking back, finding his brother standing behind him with a hand on the door.

  
  
“Have fun bro.” Slim was looking somewhere below Razz’s face, clearly embarrassed to be showing some actual brotherly affection, but Razz just grinned, nodding once before starting down the driveway.

  
  
It was a ten minute walk to the Fell brother’s house, something that Razz would have scoffed at if he were back Underground, but as it was up here, a small break every now and again was nothing to be ashamed of. He’d given himself a half hour to get there, knowing how Fell felt about tardiness, and took two five minute breaks before continuing on. Soon enough the two story, Victorian styled house came into view, Razz admiring the soft, fern green of the walls as he always did when one of the brothers had him come over.

  
  
The porch light was on, clearly as a welcome as it was only early evening. Taking the small set of steps two at a time, he wiped his boots on the mat and rand the doorbell. There was a faint noise from inside, heard under the sounds of far off cars and the low chirping of early crickets, Razz waiting patiently until the door cracked open, held mostly shut by a chain. A single crimson eyelight stared out at him for a second, the socket it belonged to widening before the door shut once more, a faint scraping sounding before it opened fully, Fell standing with his arms crossed.

  
  
Razz appraised his friend, wondering why the other was wearing a dark blazer and dress pants this late in the day, but resolved himself to never knowing. “Well, I’m here for this “favor”. If it’s to clean your car again, I’m going home.”

  
  
Fell snickered lightly, taking a step back as Razz walked inside, socket blinking at the change in light. The living room was immaculate as usual, not a pillow or sock out of place. Fell seemed to pause for a moment, looking apprehensively to the kitchen before looking back at Razz, clearly wanting to say something but also too nervous (or anxious) to say it. Rather than waiting on him to get his words together, Razz began walking towards the kitchen, easy grin on his face even as he heard Fell scrambling behind him.

  
  
“If you wanted to cook together or something, you could have just said so. You know I love trying new recipes and-”

  
  
He paused in the doorway, eyelights nearly going out as he took it all in.

  
  
The table was set with candles, a veritable feast laid out in easy reach of two chairs, what seemed to be fine plating and silverware set in front of them. There was the smell of something soft and fruity in the air, clearly coming from one of the candles. All of it laid over a thick tablecloth, blood red and fancy as hell.

  
  
He wasn’t at all sure what he was supposed to think, or do. So instead of actually doing or saying anything, he looked back to Fell, who was sporting a fetching blush over his cheekbones. The silence reigned for a few minutes, before Fell cleared his throat, the awkwardness getting to him if the darkening of his blush said anything.

  
  
“I…I wanted to ask if you would do me the favor of having dinner. With me.” His voice was quiet, his nervousness and embarrassment obvious.

  
  
Razz stared at him for a long moment, then turned back to the spread of what looked to be delicious, undoubtedly home cooked food. “As a date?”

  
  
There was a faint choking sound behind him before Fell all but whispered an affirmative. Razz felt his mouth turning upward into a soft grin, his eyelights sparkling. Turning back to Fell, he smiled. “I’d love to.”

  
  
Fell seemed relieved more than anything, his frown lifting into an approximation of a smile as he lead Razz into the kitchen, seating him at the table before taking a seat himself.

  
  
Razz didn’t know where this would go or how long it would last. But he did know he wouldn’t regret a second of it.


	46. Crisis (SpicyCash)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: SpicyCash (Edge/Cash), Chain smoking, Existential Bullshit, Pre-Relationship if thats the way you want to take this, Could also be Platonic

He sat on the edge of the balcony, legs dangling over the side, one good push from oblivion. A cig dangled from his fangs, his hand coming up as he took a drag, taking the stick from his mouth. The smoke lingered in his chest, burning in that way that he hated, loved. Then he let it loose, the gray tendrils exiting through his fangs, out his nasal aperture, and even through his sockets. He supposed that if anyone cared enough to look at him in that moment in time, he would have a satisfyingly spooky aesthetic going.

 

The rumble of music shook the glass walls behind him, the lights, bright and neon, cutting through the darkness around him. He ignored them, taking another drag off his cigarette. It was calm, out in the darkness, the only lights those behind and beneath him, the moon and stars peeking out from behind thick clouds. He didn’t bother glancing up to see them. He knew what they looked like.

 

The glass door behind him squeaked as it slid open, the raucous noise from inside overwhelming for the brief moment before it shut once again. Whoever it was stood just at the door for a moment before finally walking to the balcony, the asshole taking his smoke right from his fingers and taking a drag, letting the smoke drift from their teeth.

 

“Get your own smokes, bastard, or you’ll be buying me a new pack.” Edge griped, pulling the carton from his jacket pocket and slipping out a new cig. Cash chuckled as he flicked his lighter, the flame refusing to catch at first, before finally lighting. Disgruntled, Edge took a deep drag of the new cig, staring off into the distance rather than acknowledging the asshole beside him.

 

They stayed like that, in semi-compatible silence, the only sounds from the building behind them and of Cash’s lighter as he lit up a new smoke. There had always been something easy to their relationship, if you wanted to call it that. Something just connected the two of them. Maybe it was the whole Fellverse bullshit; they understood each other’s pain or some shit. Maybe it was the fact that they were the “same person”, even though the only thing they shared was a name and they didn’t have that anymore.

 

Staring into the city far below, Edge felt smoke drift between his ribs, the world feeling a whole lot more complicated than he was prepared to deal with. It was why he was out here, instead of partying with the rest of them. It was why Cash had followed, not two hours later.

 

Maybe they weren’t so different after all.


	47. Picnic Blankets (HoneyPear)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have another sorta OC boy that I've been playing with, named Portgual. He's a jackass lol
> 
> Tags: HoneyPear (Stretch/Portugal), Fluff, Light Hurt/Comfort

Stretch stumbled through the door, kicking his ratty shoes off to the side before shuffling over to the couch and letting himself flop face down. He bounced a little on the plump cushions, though he quickly sank into the comfort. Four 18 hour work days that week, combined with insomnia kicking in had made life miserable, all his thoughts capable of centering on sleep and eating something, in that order.

 

At least, that’s what the plan was.

 

“Get up asshole.”

 

Curling into the back of the cushions, he raised his hand, middle finger standing tall and proud. There was a snort behind him, the shift of cloth on bone, before a small, lithe body began to climb on top of his sore, tired bones. Growling as P settled himself, draped over him like some damn blanket, he shifted, kicking his legs to try and get the other to fall off, only for the hold around him to tighten.

 

Resigning himself to his fate, Stretch closed his sockets, letting himself drift. He was just about asleep when a voice spoke up, smaller than it should have been.

 

“Tomorrow’s yer day off, yeah?”

 

Not opening his eyes, Stretch grunted an affirmative. His plans for the day were mostly sleep and food, maybe a little bit of mindless gaming for an hour or two before he got back in bed.

 

P had other plans, it seemed. “Well, I was cleanin’ the damn garage an’ I found a blanket. And I though to myself, this would be right nice for a picnic. So I spent all day t’day cooking stuff and gettin’ everythin’ ready so we could. Go. On a picnic.” His voice grew quieter the longer he spoke, until it was near a whisper. “We jus’ haven’t spent much time t’gether lately, so I thought…”

 

Stretch stared hard at the couch, catching every bit of loneliness in P’s voice. They really hadn’t done much of anything recently, had they. Turning over, he caught a squeaking P, tucking him close to his chest and under his chin. “Sounds perfect babe.”

 

He could feel the happiness coming off his prickly lover, a smirk growing on his face as P nuzzled his chest.

 

“I know ya been workin’ hard, so…we can do it tomorrow.” P affirmed, even as he began to sound sleepy. Stretch’s smirk softened as he closed his eyes.

 

“It’s a date.”


	48. He was supposed to go on a date with Edge today

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Hurt/Comfort, Spicyhoney

He was supposed to go on a date with Edge today. That was the plan, had been the plan for like three weeks so that he didn’t have anything else planned (like he ever had anything planned) and so that he had plenty of time to prepare.

 

Honey curled further into his mattress, pressing his face firmly into the lumped up blanket he had both swaddling his entire body and clenched tightly in his fingers. He was such a bad boyfriend, why did Edge stay with him? He was never able to follow through on dates or outings, he was barely able to leave his house, how the fuck did he have a house anyways he couldn’t work, Blue paid for everything, he was a terrible brother-

 

Breathing in deep, he shut the thoughts out, willing his trembling hands to hold to the blanket even tighter. His clenched sockets blinked open in the darkness, empty eyes staring off into the distance. He would get past this. The overwhelming feeling of dread and nausea-inducing fear would fade. He took deep, even breaths, held them for a few seconds, then left the breath out slowly.

 

A knock at the door had him jumping, startled, before he slowly sat up, rubbing harshly at his face. “Come in.”

 

There was the sound of the knob turning, then footsteps moving in and towards the bed. His face clear of any tears, he looked up, smile on for his brother, only for it to drop as he found Fell staring back at him. He searched for the disappointment that had to be there, the anger even that he had bailed once again on their date. All he could find was concern and affection.

 

“Your brother told me that if I didn’t get my ass over here he’d have my pelvis.”

 

That startled a laugh, Honey rolling his eyes. “Older brothers yeah?”

 

Fell smiled, though it was tempered by the concern in his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me you were having issues? I would have come and helped.”

 

Honey frowned, sockets feeling misty as he looked away. “I already ruined the date. I didn’t want to take up your time with my bullshit.”

 

There was silence for a moment, Honey fully expecting Fell to leave before a weight settled beside him on the bed, a pair of arms wrapping around him, pulling him to Fell’s chest.

 

“Papyrus, I love you. I fell in love with you knowing about the anxiety and panic attacks; I’m not going to just leave when you have these issues.” Kissing the back of his skull, Fell murmured softly. “If going out is too much, then we’ll have our dates at home.”

 

Honey breathed in slowly, trying not to cry as he leaned back into Fell’s chest. “I love you too, thank you.”

 

Fell smiled. “Of course.”


	49. Dried Venison (Spicyhoney)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based of the Village AU (based on the movie The Village by M. Night Shyamalan) made by @cheapbourbon over on Tumblr! Go check it out, they have some fantastic art of it.
> 
> Tags: Slice of Life, Anxiety, Yellow is the Safe Color, Red is the Bad Color, Spicyhoney

It was still a strange sensation, passing the safe border of torches into the forest, being almost instantly surrounded by trees and thick foliage. Even when he knew there was nothing truly to fear, he held tight to his yellow cloak as he passed by bushes of red berries, over pebbles embedded in streams of lightly flowing water, and past the old, gnarled trees that stood as a barrier to his…friend’s domain.

 

He’d named him Edge, what for the sharp bones that made up both his outfit and his frame. It was still a bit frightening to see him with his mask, the boar skull more than a little intimidating. Though it was supposed to be, with what he could make out of the culture of Those They Don’t Speak Of. It was a warrior clan, all “savages” and lone wolves that carved out their territories in the vast woodland that surrounded his quaint village.

 

This all he’d figured from the rock paintings Edge had shown him to try and explain, after he’d stumbled into the wrong territory. He’d made the paint with the red berries that seemed most prevalent through the forest, the color putting a shiver through Rus’ spine.

 

It was still difficult with the language barrier, Rus mused as he made his way through the underbrush. He was deep in Edge’s territory, heading for the meeting place they’d made together. It was a sitting rock, large and easy for laying and talking to the open air, even when his audience couldn’t understand.

 

Most often Edge was there long before Rus had a chance to arrive, but as he became close to the stone, it was obvious no one else was present. He stopped, gazing around the forest for any sign of red in the distance, any flash of white among the darkness of the woods. There was none.

 

Huffing, he climbed atop the rock, settling in the middle so that he could see all around him for when his friend would arrive. Then, he waited, wrapped firmly in the bright yellow cloak that stood out among the brown and gray that surrounded him.

 

It seemed an hour passed as he waited there before the sound of brush being broken sounded just off to his right, his skull snapping to the side as he tensed, though he relaxed as the familiar red cloak and bone snout came into view, Edge tramping carefully through the underbrush as he came closer to the rock. Once he was at the edge, he looked up, a question in his crimson eyelights. Rus smiled softly, patting the stone beside him slowly. Edge watched his hand, then carefully, slowly climbed up, settling beside him and a foot to the left, crossing his legs.

 

Rus watched as Edge took a brown leather satchel from his belt, setting it down and carefully unwrapping it to show a collection of cooked and dried meat that he’d brought. Glancing back up at Rus, Edge took a piece of the meat, watching Rus’ hands carefully as he placed the meat at his side.

 

Rus waited for him to become his version of relaxed once more before picking up the morsel he’d been given. It looked to be deer, a good slab of fat and muscle from the hindquarters if he wasn’t mistaken. Lifting it to his mouth, he took a good bite, long past worried that Edge might try to poison him. It wasn’t his way.

 

He was aware that Edge was watching him, seeing if his offering was acceptable, if he’d done well in whatever it was they shared in his mind. As always, he made sure to eat the entire offering, as well as whatever else Edge gave him to eat. If it made him feel better to keep Rus fed, Rus wasn’t going to do anything to stop him.

 

The two of them sat in silence, on their meeting rock, and ate venison in peace. If all of Rus’ days could go this smoothly, he’d have a good life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually have a headcanon for this one that Edge is actually courting Rus by bringing him food, Rus just has no idea because of the language barrier.


	50. Bullshit-ake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Alcohol Consumption, Drug Use, Clubbing, Ambiguous Papyrus(its Cash for me but it can be whoever), Existential Bullshit, Kinda Angst

He has a drink in his hand, ice clinking against the side of the glass as he swirls the amber liquid. It’s not a conscious decision, he’s more moving out of a need to move rather than any effort he’s putting forth. Being a Papyrus has its quirks; constantly needing some kind of movement is one of them. Makes it hard as hell to sleep, not that he’s slept in days as it is. His brother would be so disappointed, if he knew. Sanses could sleep like the dead, and his Sans always seemed to think that not getting enough sleep would result in an early death. If that was true he would have died at age ten.

  
  
Here he is twenty years later, still breathing. Happily ever after.

  
  
The scent of smoke, both from cheap Marlboro cigs and expensive Black Dragon cigars fills the room. Hell, if he wasn’t a skeleton he wouldn’t be able to see through the haze of darkness and smoke, the only lights coming from the sides of the room. Ambiance. Bullshit, if you asked him, but what did he know about clubs. He just came here to get drunk. Taking a swig of his drink, he stared at the empty glass, the light of his eyelights shining back in the sheer surface, an almost reflection. He sets the glass down and looks away. He doesn’t need a reminder of where he’s come from, not tonight.

  
  
Girls come around, often dressed in nothing but feathers and lace, and offer him a good time. He waves them away with bills and a promise that he’ll consider it next time. He’s been here enough times that they know he never lives up to the promise.

  
  
He doesn’t even need to raise his hand to get a refill, one of the girls coming around with some new, colorful drink. They usually try the new shit on him, just to test it out. Whether it’s because he’s a monster or because he’s a skeleton with no internal organs is something he hasn’t quite figured yet. He’s never gotten up the desire to ask. Still, this new drink is sweet, tangy, and sets the mood just right for a little fun, a little debauchery. Too bad he’s pretty well glued to his seat at this point. Still, he nods to the bartender. It’s a keeper. The man behind the bar nods back, cleaning the bartop. There’ll be a few bills stuffed in his pockets for his trouble, n the morning.

  
  
Another drink, this one more akin to his first. Simple amber juice with a few clinking ice cubes. The burn of it makes his soul pulse in his chest, no doubt shining bright under his thick clothes. He doesn’t bother glancing down to confirm it.

  
  
He’ll fall asleep here, in this corner booth, and one of the girls will bring him to one of them rooms and lock the door for privacy. He’ll wake up with a splitting headache and the bartender will serve him a glass of spritzer to take the edge off when he stumbles out of the room. He’ll find a few pills in his pocket. He’ll take them. And then he’ll head home, squinting at the sunlight and hand clutching at his chest.

  
  
Maybe someone will bother to call in and check on him. Maybe they won’t. Really it’s a toss up these days, who’s still willing to act like they care. He tries to tell himself that he doesn’t care one way or the other. The alcohol helps.

  
  
Taking another swig, he stares into the glass, the bourbon tainting the image he sees. Making it broken and off colored, a twisted version of himself.

  
  
For the first time in a long time, when he tells himself it doesn’t matter? He believes it.

 


	51. Hiccups (SpicyMaple)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done for a skelepreg fluff Tumblr contest!
> 
> Tags: Skelepreg, SpicyMaple (UF Pap/SF Pap), Fluff

Slipping a worn, thick sweater over his skull, Edge sighed as the fabric settled over his protruding stomach, the old thing nearly ancient but large enough to account for his growing stomach. Slim smiled to him through the mirror he stood in front of, laying back on the bed with an arm behind his head. Turning to the side, Edge rested his hands on the swell of his stomach, letting out a breath. Some days it still didn’t feel real.

  
  
Though some days he still couldn’t believe he was living on the surface, living with the monster he loved with all his soul, and pregnant with their child. In a few months they’d have a tiny babybones in their arms, and soon enough they would be running around, wreaking havoc and causing mayhem.

  
  
He found himself swaying a little on his feet, sockets blinking as they began to feel heavier than he was accustomed to. Slim shifted on the bed, sitting up a little.

  
  
“Come to bed, babe.”

  
  
Edge looked back at him, gazed at himself in the mirror once more, then shuffled back to the bed, crawling carefully in and laying on his side. Slim was quick to pull him close, arm wrapping around his shoulder as he tucked Edge’s skull beneath his chin. Edge breathed deep, the familiar warmth and scent of his lover easing him into sleep, the drowsiness increasing until his sockets closed of their own accord.

  
  
“love you…” he murmured, a low agreement reaching him just as he fell asleep.

  
  
~.~

  
  
Sockets blinking open, Edge shifted, uncomfortable and still half asleep as he tried to parce what had woken him up. Slim was still in bed, breathing evenly beside him, even if they weren’t tangled in each other as they’d been before he fell asleep. Turning to his other side, he blinked, staring at the light blue wall as he tried to wake up a little. Slim’s gentle breathing behind him was nearly enough to lull him back to sleep, but just as his sockets had started to close once more a small twinge in his stomach jarred him awake.

  
  
It was familiar and annoying, but, with a resigned sight, he sat up, hand supporting his stomach as he pushed himself to the very edge of the bed and stood. He wasn’t quite large enough for his walk to be a waddle, but it was a near thing. Shuffling to the door, he eased it open, glancing back to make certain Slim hadn’t woken up before moving into the hall and easing it back. Moving down the hall, he thought about what all they had that would be easy and quick to make.

  
  
Oatmeal would be fairly easy, if he used the premade packets in the closet, but he’d already eaten two bowls that day. There was some ramen in the pantry if he remembered right, but the only flavor they had was pork and just the thought of the smell made him nauseas. Deciding to see if they had any leftovers in the fridge, he pattered past the living room and into the kitchen.

  
  
The fridge light spilled out across the floor as he opened the door, the brightness of it blinding him for a second, Edge blinking as it passed. Crimson eyelights perused the shelves, sockets squinting in disdain at a box of week old ravioli, though they widened as he found a saran wrap covered plate of pizza from the night before. One of the few things he could stomach that his cravings screamed at him to consume was cold pizza.

  
  
Taking the plate, he carefully pulled off the wrapping, laying it on the counter for later before moving to the table. Hand against his stomach, he sat carefully, wincing a little as the chair under him creaked loudly. Setting the plate of pizza on the table, he took a moment to lay a napkin out on his lap before taking a slice and biting down.

  
  
The first few pieces were polished off with little fanfare, the spice of the pepperoni and the soft cheese perfect for his late night hunger. Once he’d finished his third piece he paused, letting the magic settle in his stomach before he’d see if that was enough or if he needed more. Settling back into the modified chair (Slim had set them all up with extra cushions once Edge had nearly broken one in a fit of emotion), he closed his eyes, really only wishing that he was back in bed with Slim’s arms around him.

  
  
In the nearly asleep state, he missed the first jostle. The second, however, caught him off guard, the movement inside his belly completely foreign and strange. He sat forward, hands on his stomach as he waited for it to repeat, and wasn’t disappointed as there was another tiny jostle and then what felt like a poke to the inside of his stomach. The jostles continued, more often than not followed by what he was sure was a tiny kick. It took him a moment to realize what was happening, but when he did, the smile that lit up his face would have blinded himself in the dark kitchen.

  
  
Hands spread over his ecto-flesh, he felt his child as they hiccuped and kicked, squirming around in minor discomfort. Soon the motions finally ended and his baby was still once more, their soul still shining faintly through his shirt. Blinking away the tears that had pooled in his sockets, Edge rubbed his stomach fondly. He really couldn’t wait to meet them.

  
  
He’d have to tell Slim about this in the morning.


	52. Speaking in Hands (PuppyMoneyHoney)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Light Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, PuppyMoneyHoney

Sometimes Slim wondered what he’d done to get so damn lucky. He was lounged on the couch, skull pillowed against the arm rest, only in a thin sweater and shorts. Honey was tucked on top of him, facing the couch and breathing evenly as he slept. It was a show of trust that Slim was entirely unused to, Honey having fallen asleep on top of him after a sleepless night filled with anxious thoughts. Slim knew how those went; he’d had enough off days of his own.

  
  
But Honey was taleverse. Soft, scarless, utterly undeserving of the fear and panic that plagued him. So if Slim’s presence helped him sleep (and damn if that didn’t hit him somewhere in the gut he didn’t have) he’d lay here and let the guy use him as a body pillow for the rest of the day.

  
  
Honey shifted in his sleep, making a little noise of content as he burrowed deeper into Slim’s chest, seeking more warmth. Eyeing him, Slim looked to the closet, opening it up and grabbing a quilt out with magic before draping it over the two of them. Honey sighed, relaxing into the extra warmth. Slim couldn’t help but grin. Mission accomplished.

  
  
The front door swung open, Cash walking inside and slamming it shut behind him as he kicked off his shoes. Slim winced, throwing daggers with his eyes as Cash turned around, finally noticing the two of them. Blinking, he looked at the door then back to Slim who was still glaring, before his eyelight finally fell on the top of Honey’s skull that poked out from the top of the quilt. Wincing, Cash made a quick gesture for “sorry”, moving closer to the couch.

  
  
_ Did he sleep at all last night? _

  
  
Slim shook his head, watching Honey carefully as he extracted his hand.  _No more than an hour or so. We stayed up watching Whose Line all night._

  
  
Cash snorted softly.  _Sounds about right. Assholes._

  
  
Slim grinned, winking, though the both of them went rigid as Honey grumbled under his breath, tucking further under the blanket.

  
  
“If you two are going to speak in hands, can you do it a little quieter.”

  
  
Cash snickered, Slim smiling even as the two of them conceded.

  
  
“Sorry sweetheart, go back to sleep.” Slim murmured, kissing what was still sticking out of Honey’s skull. They listened as their third mumbled something, probably a declaration of affection, before the tiny squeaks of breath returned, signifying his return to sleep.

  
  
Shaking his head, Cash moved into the kitchen, likely making dinner for the three of them (taking a few frozen pizzas from the freezer and popping them in the oven, the way most of them knew how to cook). Slim watched him leave, then settled back further into the couch. There was enough time to take a little bit of a nap before dinner would be finished. He might as well make use of it.

 


	53. Debt (SpicyCash)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm playing with the headcanon here that rather than the skeletons getting shunted into the same universe via machine, their Undergrounds open up to the same Surface.
> 
> Tags: Violence, Slice of Life, Implied Eventual SpicyCash

It was raining. Big drops of cool water falling from the sky, drenching everything in its path. Cash watched as it pattered the ground from his window seat, hands wrapped around the cup of hot cocoa he’d ordered, letting the warmth sink into his fingers. The sweet, savory chocolate was a delicacy, to him at least. He would have never had access to it underground, but he hadn’t had to do his old job since the barrier fell.

  
  
The door jingled lightly as different people, both monsters and humans, came in and left, all clutching coffee and frappuccinos to their chests as though they were some kind of nectar from the gods and had to be protected at all costs. Taking a sip of his cocoa, he watched as the newest monster came inside, black coat hiding most of their face as the collar was pulled up as high as it would go.

  
  
He watched as the skeleton (no other creature had a blank white expanse for a head that he’d come across) moved carefully but assuredly across the already slick floor, ordering a drink and handing over a card before stepping back, arms crossed. Cash studied him for a moment, taking in the wicked scar over his left socket and the piercing crimson eyelights that seemed to bore into whatever he looked at.

  
  
Deciding that, if worst came to worst he could proposition the guy, he checked him. It was obvious when the check went into affect, the guy’s shoulders tensing and his eyelights going rigid. Coming from a fellground himself, he knew the first instinct that popped in your head: Someone’s gearing up for a fight.

  
  
15 LV. Isn’t about to just lay down and take it.

  
  
Well. Cash huddled further into his seat, sipping gingerly at his cocoa and trying hard to look as least suspicious or threatening as possible. As the sound of leather boots thudded closer, however, he began putting together his eulogy in his mind.

  
  
“Don’t you know it’s rude to check other monsters without their permission.” The voice was deep, a little rough, but otherwise smooth. Pleasantly dark. Cash felt a shudder go through his spine even as he looked up with a smirk.

  
  
“I’m sure up here it is.”

  
  
The skeleton stared down at him, face impassive, the stare down lasting just long enough that it became uncomfortable, before he sat in the seat across from him, looking out the window while taking a sip of his drink. Cash raised a brow, but rather than question it, he took a swallow of cocoa and joined him.

  
  
Sometimes being in the presence of another fell just made your day. Better or worse, that was really a flip of the coin.

 


	54. Edge Gets a Pitbull pt. 1 (SpicyCash)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Adopting a Pet, Slice of Life of Pet Ownership, Pet with Anxiety

The front of the building seemed quaint and homey, a few bushes and scattered flowers planted out in front of the wide windows. Edge stepped up the well maintained sidewalk, hands in his jacket pockets as he peered through one of the windows. There were a few pups peeking back at him, wiggling excitedly and licking at the glass, pressing their little noses up against the cool surface to try and sniff him better. A small grin on his face, Edge stepped forward, pushing the glass door open with a small jingle, his greeting the yips and yowls of puppies and kittens alike.

  
  
A small cat with thick gray fur pattered up to meet him, winding around his leg a few times before moving back to the counter where a human waited, a warm smile on their face. He imagined that, even with the troubles and hardships working at a place like this harbored, it must have its upsides. Following the cat, he brought his hands from their pockets and let them linger at his sides, his eyelights scanning the room before they landed on a nondescript door that likely lead to the back.

  
  
The woman followed his line of sight, nodding to herself as she stood. “I suppose you want to look at the older ones?”

  
  
Edge nodded, watching as she made her way around the counter and toward the back, the cat following along behind but pausing as the woman unlocked the door. “They can be very forward and affectionate, but none of them should nip or anything.”

  
  
Edge waited for her to walk through, holding the door open with one hand as he moved through, the instant barrage of barking nearly giving him an instant headache. The woman let the door shut behind them, watching him as he began looking through the kennels, each filled with soft blankets and toys, most of the dogs in each jumping excitedly at the bars or standing just on the other side, their tails wagging incessantly. He felt his smile grow, even as the woman told him that she would be returning to the counter and to let her know when and if he’d picked someone.

  
  
He already had a bit of an idea of what he wanted, but it wouldn’t hurt to look at each dog before deciding.

  
  
He started with the kennel right beside the door and worked his way down, speaking and petting each through the bars as he went. Some were overly affectionate, licking his hand with as much ferocity as they could manage. Other’s sat sedately and gently panted as he gave them pets. As he came to the end of the row, however, there wasn’t a dog standing at the gate or jumping at the bars. No, this one was huddled in the back corner, stubble of a tail tucked tightly against it’s rear, its head tucked in as it trembled.

  
  
Something about its mannerisms tugged at his soul, making him feel both on edge and protective. The dog’s chart was in a plastic folder hanging from the bars, Edge grabbing it and flipping through the pages with narrowed sockets. No history of abuse, the dog in front of him merely very skittish and prone to anxiety. It’s breed was Pitbull, its color brindle, and apparently she was female, already spayed at 3 years old. A young one then.

  
  
Flipping through one more time and giving the dog a final look over, he could feel his eyelights softening as the poor thing tried to push itself harder into the corner of the kennel. This was no place for a dog like her to thrive.

  
  
Nodding to himself, Edge walked calmly back to the door, wallet in hand.


	55. Edge Gets a Pitbull pt.2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Animal Anxiety, Fear, SpicyCash

The drive home was uneventful for the most part, other than the various whimpers and whines the dog- he still hadn’t decided on a name- made as he drove. He ignored the noises for the most part, allowing her space after his first mis-attempt at offering comfort. She had tucked herself as close to the passenger door as she was able, her large body making it difficult to hide even as she tried her absolute hardest. It was inspiring, the level of effort she put into making herself as small as physically possible when she was such a large dog.

  
  
Pulling into his driveway, he turned the key in the ignition, listening as the engine slowly stopped with a low rumble. Slowly, he took hold of the end of the leash, the metal clinking against the ring of her collar. She whined, skittering a little as he got a firm hold on it before opening his door. Stepping out, he tugged lightly, the dog resisting only for a moment before she rushed the door, hopping out and attempting to run away before the leash went taunt.

  
  
Aware that she wouldn’t get away she huddled against his legs, taking the slightly familiar over the strange unknown around her. Reaching down he let her frantically sniff his fingers before slowly, carefully tugging her towards  the house. After a brief moment of fear she followed, staying ever so close to his legs, almost tripping him once or twice before they finally got to the door.

  
  
Swinging open on silent hinges, Edge moved past the door, the dog moving with him and staying put as he shut it. There were footsteps from the room adjacent to the hall, the dog becoming even more nervous and huddling further into his legs as Cash turned the corner, mouth open likely to ask him where the hell he’d been, only for it to close with a click.

  
  
Edge supposed it must have been quite the sight.

  
  
Puffing a sigh through his nose, Cash shifted from one foot to the other, hands resting in his pockets. “What kind is it?” He didn’t have to ask why Edge had a dog in the first place; they’d had a few talks about it and Cash had been moderately supportive. Reaching down to unclip the leash, Edge slowly moved down the hall, the dog staying put next to the door.

  
  
“The human at the shelter informed me she is a pitbull.” He spoke softly, looking back down the hall once he stood next to Cash, his soul sinking as she looked around the floor, posture filled with fear. Sighing softly, he frowned.

  
  
“Is she supposed to be this skittish?” Cash chewed thoughtfully on the toothpick in his mouth, purple eyelight staring thoughtfully at the poor thing now huddled into a ball on the floor. Edge glanced at him before shaking his head.

  
  
“I suppose so. Let her be for now.” Turning, he moved further down the hall and into the kitchen, finding the metal bowls and bag of dog food he’d bought for her arrival. Cash followed, leaning back on the counter as Edge poured out food and water, setting it out under the table.

  
  
“Got a name fer her yet?”

  
  
Edge looked up, brushing his hands on his pants. “Not yet. Any suggestions?”

  
  
Cash chewed on the pick thoughtfully. “Not yet. Let you know when I do.” 

  
  
Grinning, Edge stood, leaving the bowls where they laid. He’d go and get her bed out of the car when she wasn’t holed up by the front door. Until then, he’d let her have her space. She’d come around eventually, if only from a need for food.


	56. A Little Luck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Demon Papyrus, Mortal Edge, Implied Relationship (Edgepuff), Ambiguous AU

He moved down the steps, hands working a towel between his fingers, drying off the various droplets of water. Brow raised, he paused on the last step, his hands still drying themselves idly.

  
  
“Has it been three months already?”

  
  
The skeleton currently hovering in his damn lobby turned from admiring his own reflection, a playful grin on his face. “It’s been four, darling, you always lose track of time.”

  
  
Edge could easily concede that fact; running a business often made it difficult to keep time on a grander scale than a week at a time. At the current moment he was simply grateful it was late enough that most of the guests had either retired to their rooms or were making use of the adjacent bar. It wasn’t as if anyone could see his companion, but they would certainly see him talking to what was to them thin air.

  
  
“I suppose. Shall we head upstairs then?” He’d been about to retire himself, the long days of summer heat doing a toll on his body.

  
  
The skeleton’s eyelights sparkled with mischief, a faint flame inside them. “I thought perhaps we could talk a walk, love. See the sights, cause a little mayhem.” He winked. “Maybe get lost and end up somewhere that’s not a shithole.”

  
  
Edge sighed, rolling his eyes even as he moved down the last step, tossing the towel behind the counter before moving to the door. “One: I enjoy my life here. Two: Keep your grubby hands to yourself. I will not have you moving and taking me places I don’t wish to be.”

  
  
The demon’s sockets widened in offense. “My hands are not grubby, thank you!” Grumbling to himself as Edge headed outside, he followed, staring at his hands. He’d hit a bit of a sore spot; if there was one thing the demon preferred control of, it was his own appearance. “No one’s going to faint in terror from a sub par demon!” Edge had always countered with “I’ve never fainted.”, which usually earned him a glare.

  
  
He still didn’t know why the demon had latched onto him like it had. It only ever showed up every few months, apparently very busy with its life back…wherever it lived. But, no matter what he’d done in the beginning, no matter what prayers and rituals he performed, the demon always came back.

  
  
“I do not understand how you can remain here. I could give you the world but you won’t take it!”

  
  
Ah, this old argument. “How can I accept when the price is my soul.” Edge turned to look at a sheepish demon, though he was quick to retort.

  
  
“Every single person I’ve ever tempted was happy to give me their soul! You are a very strange mortal is what I’m saying.” Nodding to himself, the demon was briefly distracted by a window of dresses, Edge waiting patiently as he admired the handiwork.

  
  
“If you really thought I wasn’t worth your time, you wouldn’t be here.”

  
  
The demon nodded distractedly, though Edge knew he was correct. They began walking again, the stars high above them twinkling in the darkness.

  
  
“Papyrus, why do you come back when you know I won’t do it.” Edge finally asked once they’d reached the town square, the fountain spraying sheets of water high into the air, shining back the lights from town.

  
  
The demon chuckled, giving him a look. It was not a good look. “Because I’m not so sure you won’t.”

  
  
Edge sighed, looking back to the fountain. The demon could believe what it wanted. Taking a coin from his pocket, he gave the surface a rub of his thumb before flipping it in. One could always use a little luck.


	57. Sickly (Fellcest)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Sickfic, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fellcest

He wasn’t  _ that  _ sick. He didn’t care how wobbly his first steps out of bed were, he didn’t care that magic was dripping down the back of his skull and under his clothes, and he certainly did not care that his head was pounding, the whole of it feeling stuffy and congested, making it difficult to breathe. None of that mattered, not when he had a job to do. So here he was, standing at the kitchen counter and doing everything in his power to stay upright.

  
  
Gloved hands gripping the counter edge, Fell clenched his sockets shut, breathing through his mouth as he staved off a wave of nausea, the rich smell of the soup he’d been trying to prepare to take with him doing nothing but making it worse. Staggering back a step, he took deep breaths through his mouth, trying desperately to quell the overwhelming nausea and lightheadedness that had taken over. His vision wavered, Fell taking another step back until he sat hard onto one of the chairs, hands clinging tightly to whatever purchase they could grab.

  
  
He was sure he made quite the picture, sniffling through a stuffed nasal passage, magic hazy in his sockets as he stared off into the distance, not entirely certain he wasn’t about to pass out.

  
  
There was the sound of a door slamming upstairs, steps thundering down the stairs and heading for the kitchen, his brother’s angry mumbling becoming louder the closer to the kitchen he got. Finally Red turned the corner, eyelights flashing in anger as he stopped, not really looking at Fell as he started talking. “Fucking Undyne is wantin’ those reports, and what does she do instead of being on yer ass about it? She starts callin’ me! Over and over again, like that’s somehow gonna get ‘em to ‘er faster!”

  
  
Fell tried and failed to glare at his brother, hoping his inability to give a shit shown through at least. Red finally glanced over from his ranting, the anger on his face intense until he realized that there was a reason Fell hadn’t answered.

  
  
“Shit, Paps, you okay?”

  
  
He sighed, then immediately regretted it as the inhalation of air irritated his magic enough to send him into a coughing fit. He was hunched over, hand clutching his chest as the worst of the pain rolled through him, but when he came to there was a hand gently rubbing his back, Red hovering over him with a distinct worry in his eyes. Fell glared back, miserable, before unintentionally leaning further into his hold.

  
  
“Yer not goin’ in t’day, I don’ give a shit what fuckdyne says.” Red’s voice was firm, his grip just as firm as he gathered Fell into his arms and took a shortcut upstairs. Fell stumbled a bit at the sudden transport, Red catching him with a low curse and helping him into bed. Fell closed his eyes, breathing as deeply as he was able, before he curled into his side, trying his hardest to hold in any noises or complaints. He felt like absolute shit, but he didn’t have be a child about it.

  
  
Red’s hand was cool against his forehead, Fell leaning into the attention with a small sigh. Chuckling, Red bent down and left a chaste kiss against his teeth, then started covering him up with one of his sheets. “Jus’ rest fer now bro. I’ll call in fer ya, and the fish bitch can eat a carp if she has a problem.” Fell opened his eyes long enough to glare softly at his brother, then gave in to the overwhelming call of his body for sleep.


	58. Druken, Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Underswap Sansby (can be platonic or romantic), Alcohol Consumption, Hurt/Comfort

Grillby always knew what kind of day, week, hell, even month it’d been for Sans when the short skeleton shambled into the bar, tiredly grinning as he greeted everyone with a smile. Ever smiling even when he was so tired he was just about to fall over, what a true feat of mind over body. Rolling what passed for eyes, Grillby started rummaging around for the nearest bottle of cinnamon whiskey, the only stuff Sans would drink when he got like this. Pouring a series of shots (and telling himself that tonight would be the night he played the honest bartender and did not let him go over that amount, no matter what his old friend pleaded), he set them up in front of Sans’ favorite seat, right at the front of the bar.

 

It usually took a while for Sans to really make the rounds, greeting old friends he hadn’t seen in a while, saying hello to a couple he’d seen just the day before. A lot of folks knew him from his old hot dog stand, and even after the last few years he still got asked by some random, clueless patron where he’d gone off to. Sans would always give them a sad grin and some inane, pulled-outta-his-ass answer before making his way to the next table. Soon enough though, he was up front, pulling himself into his favorite seat as if climbing a mountain.

 

Grillby knew his friend had poor health. Hell, there’d been a scare a few years back and, because of said scare, he knew just how much health the guy had to spare. Living with 1 HP and a brother that couldn’t leave their house had to weigh on the mind, if not the body. So Grillby would patiently wait for Sans to get through his first drink, and would listen to whatever he wanted to get off his chest.

 

Today was a Quiet Day. No words were spoken once Sans was in his chair, his eyelights dull and faded as he stared into the contents of his third glass. Grillby waited for him to speak, and when it was clear he had no intentions to, then he knew exactly just what kind of day/week/month it’d been.

 

He stayed up front, offering his presence of warmth to the exceedingly chilled skeleton, only leaving when someone absolutely needed his attention. After the last shot he started exchanging the liquor for a batch of his finer tea; the good, sleep inducing stuff. By the pale blue scorch marks under Sans’ sockets, the poor guy needed it.

 

Soon enough Sans was passed out, lulled into a state of peace by the constant warmth and the slight stirrings of soothing magic Grillby had put in the tea. Smiling softly through his tinted glasses, Grillby shook his head as a small snore came up from the pillowed skull on his bar top. He’d have to thoroughly clean that spot later, from previous experience there would be quite a bit of whiskey-tinged drool.

 

But at least his friend was sleeping. Grillby would watch over him until he awoke, would even see him home if he had to. And he’d put the tea on his tab, just like always, swept under the rug never to be heard from again. Nodding his head, resolute, he looked over the remaining customers of his bar, and settled in for a long night.


	59. Edgy, Yet Soft (Faleverse)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new AU I made, termed as Fale, is a mix of the Tale and Fell universes. I hope to write more for it soon...
> 
> Tags: Fale AU (Fell/Tale), Daredevil Stunts, Adrenaline Junkie, Slight Angst
> 
> Fale Papyrus is named Copper, and is nonbinary.

Copper grinned as they cinched the straps over their chest shut, jerking the cords hooked to them a couple times before giving the driver in the truck a double thumbs up. Red, shaking his head even as he turned to put the rumbling truck in gear, waving his hand out the driver’s side window in a signal that he was about to go before slowly, slowly, the pickup started to inch forward. Shifting their feet to better balance on the skateboard their feet were strapped to, Copper smiled brightly even as the truck slowly picked up speed.

  
  
Putting their hands out to the side, they lifted one to flip on the gopro taped to their helmet before sticking it back out. They slowly picked up more and more speed, weaving a little behind the ever speeding truck before it finally got up to a high enough speed that the wind was whipping through their clothes, pants billowing and shirt trying its best to tear off their bones.

  
  
Laughing maniacally, Copper carefully reached down, unclipping the cords and letting themself sail down the street, Red still going just ahead of them. Suddenly, as discussed, the truck stopped and Copper grinned fiercely, lowering their body before vaulting off the ground, flying up and over the truck in a turning backflip. Using just a tinge of magic to loosen the air time, they landed back on their feet, the board rolling on its own carrying him a little further even as they raised their arms in triumph.

  
  
There was a faint clapping as they reached up and turned off the gopro, Copper turning back to find Red grinning and rolling his eyes as he clapped slowly. Laughing, Copper flipped him off before bending over to unstrap their feet. Kicking up the board, they scooped it up and jogged to the side of the truck, pulling the door open with a creak and hopping inside.

  
  
Red wordlessly put the thing back in gear, heading back for the house as Copper unclipped the helmet and pulled it from his skull, grinning down as they unhooked the gopro, setting it carefully in their inventory.

  
  
“Yer crazy, ya know that right?” Red’s gravely voice finally spoke up, his voice amused.

  
  
Copper glanced over at him with a grin, fangs glistening in the lowering light, before staring out the window, their leg jittering up and down. Doing stunts always left them with a high dose of residual energy that had to work its way out of their system naturally. “I know it.” Looking over, they winked. “No crazier than you, fucker.”

  
  
Red huffed a snort, shaking his head as they turned down a residential road, passing by cookie cutter houses and white picket fences. Copper kept their eyes trained out the window, wondering not for the first time who all would be home when they got there. If Edge would be there, or if he’d still be out working, not at all trying to avoid their new housemate.

  
  
Drumming their hands on the dash, they started loudly humming the guitar riff of Stairway to Heaven, Red laughing before singing along even though neither of them really knew the words. They were halfway through Bohemian Rhapsody when the roads turned to gravel, the faithful truck finally pulled into the dirt driveway that lead up to the fair sized ranch house. Copper hopped out even before Red had put the thing in park, slamming the door shut and skipping up to the front door. Kicking their shoes off to the side, then pausing and fixing them to be symmetrical to the outside wall of the house, they stepped inside, letting the door shut behind them before taking a deep breath.

  
  
Rosemary and chives. Edge was indeed home. Setting the helmet on the side table and hanging their leather jacket on the hook by the door, Copper moved towards the kitchen, carefully peeking inside before shuffling from the carpet to the linoleum. Edge was standing over the stove, vigorously cooking what looked and smelled of stir fry, the oven itself on meaning he was also baking something.

  
  
Carefully settling themself into a seat at the table, Copper didn’t say a word even as Edge set a plate in front of them, Red settling in beside them and receiving his own plate piled high with food. Edge sat with his own full plate, the two brothers silently digging into their meals without even looking at each other.

  
  
They hated this, really. Hated the vaguely far away look in Edge’s eyes any time they was around him. Hated the tinge of guilt hidden in Red’s eyelights that never really went away. Hated that their existence had caused some kind of rift in the brother’s lives but they didn’t even have the decency to tell them. It was like being back Underground all over again.

  
  
Instead of saying anything, they ate. Put their plate in the sink, silently thanked Edge for the food, and headed to the guest room they’d been given. The video from the gopro was easily edited, the programs up here so much easier to work with than what they’d had back home. Once it was jazzed up to their liking they set it to upload, rubbing at their face as they leaned back in their desk chair, the back tilting dangerously.

  
  
Living with the two brothers was like waiting for a time bomb to go off but not actually knowing what it would do when it did. Stress inducing at best. Gripping panic at worst. Shaking the remaining nervous energy out of their bones, they stretched out, pushing their arms as high above their head as they would go, sighing in satisfaction as his vertebrae popped into alignment with a crick.

  
  
Something needed to be done, but with their track record, it was doubtful anything good would come of it.


	60. What’s Said About Curiosity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Cat Cash (Sphynx), Cat P (Ragamuffin), Hurt/Comfort, Implied Abandonment, Angst, Twist rescues stray cats, Starvation, Brief Mention of Bugs

He’d never been this hungry. Living with his old human had meant food was readily available at any possible point in time. He’d never had to hunt through the night, his stomach curling into itself and making horrid noises that strove to push away any possible prey. He’d never had to dig through mounds of refuse only to find rotten and larva infested pieces of what used to be food. He’d never finally had to stop, rain pelting down on his patchy, wrinkled skin, so weak that his legs would no longer hold him up.

  
  
He couldn’t even lift his head out of the puddle that had started forming just under it. It was starting to become a chore to breathe without taking in some water, but he just didn’t have the energy to move. His eye, still crusted shut and pulsing with faint, throbbing pain, wouldn’t open, the other blearily gazing out into the night.

  
  
Why hadn’t his human come home? If they’d just come home, he wouldn’t be in this mess. He wouldn’t be so hungry that his stomach felt shriveled up inside him, constricting with sharp pain. He wouldn’t be laying in the middle of an alley, water raining down incessantly on his hairless body with relentless pressure, too weak to move.   
Finally, with a helpless mewl to the darkness, he closed his eye, giving in to the overwhelming call to sleep.

  
  
Until the sound of someone approaching, making a soft clicking noise and calling to him with simple words, woke him. His eye slitting open, he peered up, helplessly looking up at what seemed to be a strange, bony person. Their right eye seemed to be cracked in a way that eyes usually didn’t crack in, but their face was kind, hands gentle as they scooped him from the ground and wrapped him in a large, warm cloth. He shivered at the sudden warmth, burrowing into it as much as he was able, mewling softly as he was tucked against the stranger person’s chest.

  
  
“I’m gonna get ya home in a jiffy, there, lil guy, jus’ hold on fer me.”

  
  
He was jostled a little as the person moved quickly through the alley, headed down the barren streets to a random neighborhood. Soon enough there was the sound of keys in a doorknob, the creaking of hinges, and suddenly he was inside, the warm air surrounding him making him feel marginally better, now that he was out of the rain. The person moved through the room, setting him down on what felt like a sofa. It wasn’t nearly as nice as the sofa his old owner had, the fabric worn and patchy and the cushions lumpy at best. Still, it was a far better alternative to the cold, rough cement outside.

  
  
“Okay, lil guy, I’m gonna go get ya some milk, ya stay ‘ere fer a sec, yeah?” Then he was off, as if he wasn’t actually worried about him going anywhere. Not that there was any danger of him escaping, not when his legs still weren’t listening to him. Settling further into the warm hoody- or maybe it was a jacket?- he was wrapped in, he laid his head on the puffed up edge, peering out into the dark living room.

  
  
There were the sounds of the person tinkering around in the kitchen, and what seemed to be a strange, raspy grinding sound. Looking around even as he felt sleep pulling at him once more, he tried to identify the noise, only to startle helplessly as another cat jumped up on the couch, back hunched and fur bristled as the noise continued. It appeared to be how the cat growled, a strange scar going up through its left eye and curling over the back of its head.

  
  
He tried to back away, the cat growling harshly in its strange way as it watched him with a bright green eye that flashed in the darkness, but found himself still unable to move. There was a brief moment of panic on his part as the cat took a predatory step forward, before the person was back, picking the other cat up by the scruff of the neck and holding him aloft.

  
  
“P! Be nice ta our guest, he’s havin’ a rough time!” And with that he set him back on the floor, stepping around him to sit on the couch. There was a turkey baster filled with what looked like milk in his hand, the person lifting him up from the couch and settling him against his chest once more. “Eat up, little guy, get yer strength back.”

  
  
He drank desperately from the baster, the feeling of actual sustenance making his body feel warm and full after only a few swallows. Once the warm milk was gone, he was set back on the couch, the person fixing up the jacket/hoody around him before gently petting him on the head. “Yer safe now, Patches, ain’t nobody gonna hurt ya here.”

  
  
Just was he found himself drifting into a forced unconsciousness, he wondered if Patches was his new name.


	61. Fluid (TwistedPear)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Gender Fluid Portugal, Femme, Dressing in Pretty Clothes to Feel Nice, Fluff

He tried to ignore it, when he felt urges passing certain stores in the mall. He would never ever let himself look, especially when he was with any of the others. When he was alone…sometimes he would let himself take a brief glance into the brightly lit windows, just long enough for the longing he felt to become uncomfortable enough that he looked away. It happened nearly every time he went to the mall, so after a while he kept the visits to a minimum. But then it started happening in any store he went it that sold such things, the longing only growing any time he saw something out of the corner of his eye.

 

His will grew weaker and weaker until, one day when he was on his own, he took a small piece, tearing the tag off and stuffing it under his shirt. The cashier hadn’t noticed, checking out his seven jars of pickles with a faintly exhausted air. He hadn’t looked a single person in the eye on the whole way home, immediately locking the door behind him and dropping off the bags in the kitchen before heading for his bedroom.

 

Swallowing hard as he shut and locked the door behind him, he closed his eyes, letting his hand go up under his shirt. The feeling of the sheer fabric against the sharp tips of his fingers made his eyes pop back open, his fingers lightly grasping the shirt he’d stolen as he dragged it back out into the open. It was a pale pink, the straps covered in sequins that shone brightly under the light in his bedroom. The fabric felt so soft under his fingertips, to easily torn.

 

With a heavy breath, he gently laid the shirt on his bed, unbuttoning his own, regular shirt and tossing it to the floor before reverently picking the other back up with the very tips of his fingers. Closing his eyes, he slid it over his head, savoring the way the fabric slid fluidly over his bones, the slight static feeling making him shiver. Opening his eyes, he looked down at himself, smoothing out the wrinkles with his hands before looking up to get a better view in the mirror.

 

The sight was almost overwhelming. He looked so…different. With the black pants he’d worn that day, they matched the shirt so well it looked like a well put together outfit. It made him feel something funny, deep in his soul, like there had been something tight, so tight, and wearing the shirt made it loosen, just a little. The longer he wore it, feeling the fabric shift on his bones, glancing at himself in the mirror every few seconds, the more it loosened.

 

Putting his own shirt back on had almost made him cry, but he consoled himself with the knowledge that, as long as he was home, he could wear it whenever he wanted to, for as long as he wanted to.

 

The one shirt wasn’t enough for very long.

 

Finding that it was much more convenient and inconspicuous to order the clothing online, Portugal found a whole selection of clothing and brands to try, so many options for him to attempt. First a long skirt that flowed to the floor, swirling around him as he walked. Then, another shirt, this one with a v-neck that showed off his sternum and cervical vertebrae. Another skirt, another shirt, even a pair of stockings, until finally, a dress caught his eye. It was a simple dress, only dropped down mid-femur, the pale yellow cotton light and airy as he spun his waist, letting the skirt swirl around him, watching in the mirror.

 

He’d soon amassed a small collection of “special” clothing, all hidden away in the top of his closet. Each piece was carefully washed and air dried after each wearing, always fresh for the next time he wore it. He’d made a bit of a schedule for it, after work. Nearly every other day he’d come home, take a shower to get rid of the day’s sweat and grime, then he’d towel dry himself and walk to his bedroom naked. Once inside he’d retrieve the box from the top of the closet, setting it on his bed and taking out an outfit to wear until he retired that night.

 

The day had been a long one, customers yelling and cussing him out more than once, and by the time he got home he wanted nothing more than to flop in bed and sleep it off. When he arrived, however, Twist was leaning against the door, wide grin on his face as Portugal pulled up. It made a knot form in his stomach; whatever Twist wanted, it looked like it was serious enough that he’d made the whole trip over to the entire other side of the city to talk to him.

 

Instead of telling Twist to piss off, which wouldn’t even work, he hopped out of his car and crossed his arms. “Mind tellin’ me what yer doing here, boyo?”

 

Twist’s grin widened. “Thought we could hang out fer a bit, darlin’, haven’ seen ya in a while.”

 

Knowing there was no way Twist was going to take no for an answer, Portugal sighed, giving up and moving up to the door to unlock it. Twist followed him inside, flopping on his lumpy couch with a grin. “Sit down, sweetheart?”

 

Portugal eyed him suspiciously, then did as he asked, leaning back with his arms crossed. Twist looked him over, mouth opened as if to say something, before it closed, his eyes softening. “Long day, sweetheart?”

 

He shrugged, trying not to yawn. “Ev’ry day’s a long one. What’d you need.”

 

Twist continued staring at him, seemingly concerned, before he sighed, grabbing a plastic bag from his inventory and handing it over. “Saw it in the mall tha other day. Thought ya might appreciate it.” Twist said it utterly nonchalant, but Portugal knew what it was before he opened the bad, the name emblazoned on the side giving it away. Untying the knots, he gently lifted the heavy material up and out of the plastic bag, revealing an evening gown made of dark, nearly black iridescent material. It was…

 

“‘s perfect.” His voice was wobbly, but filled with awe at the beautiful nature of the gift. Looking over to Twist, he saw the look of pure satisfaction on the other’s face, and, like the asshole he was, punched him in the shoulder. “But no spendin’ that much money on me again, twisted. Ya hear me?”

 

Twist chuckled, leaning in to leave a kiss on the top of his skull. “No promises, darlin’. Not when it gets a blush like that on yer skull.”

 

His blush intensified before he punched Twist in the shoulder again, ignoring the laughter as he held up the dress once more. It really was perfect. He had such a great boyfriend.


	62. Large (Spicyhoney)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Bara Edge (14 feet tol), Slight Hurt/Comfort, Spicyhoney

He had a new scar. Rus had to sit up a little to see it clearly, from his perch on top of the giant ass folded quilt Edge had given him to take a nap on while he wrote up some reports for the guard. The quilt was comfortable enough, he’d even brought one of his own pillows to make it more like home (even though he could sleep just about anywhere.

  
  
The scar looked slightly red and inflamed still, meaning it was fairly recent. Maybe even earlier that day and healed up until it was no longer causing a loss of HP.

  
  
He could ask Edge what’d happened, if anything serious had happened at all. But he’d run the risk of pissing the big guy off and then he’d get nowhere. He needed to be tactful, smart, and careful. Too bad he was already sliding down the side of the folded blanket and moving across the floor to stand next to Edge’s waist. With him sitting down like this, Rus’ head reached just under his rib cage, close enough for him to latch onto one and hoist himself up like it was the rungs of a ladder. The fact that Edge had chosen to go shirtless for the occasion made it a lot easier than it would have been otherwise.

  
  
Edge grunted, though he didn’t look down. He’d likely seen Rus get down from the corner of his eye and was expecting something like this. Grunting from the exertion, Rus kneed along his boyfriend’s leg, clutching tightly to his pants and the available rib to keep from falling over the side. Clearing his throat, he looked up at Edge, face set in grim adamence.

  
  
It took a moment, but Edge finally looked down, curious what he wanted, when he saw the look on his face. Quickly looking back to his paperwork, his voice was dismissive. “It’s nothing. Nothing to worry about.”

  
  
Rus huffed. “If that was true, I wouldn’t be here.”

  
  
Edge glanced back down, eyelights amused. “You’re only ever here to worry about me, then? Must be a boring way to live.”

  
  
Rus leaned back dangerously, keeping a firm grip on the rib he still held. The bone felt sturdy in his hands. Strong. “Yeah, yeah, but someone has to do it babe. Your brother certainly won’t.”

  
  
Edge rolled his eyes, turning back to his papers. “If you really must know, one of the dogs decided to step out of place today. They quickly learned the error of such a decision.” His tone made it seem like it was no big deal, like it was just another annoyance for him to have to log in the reports. Rus tried hard to not let the way his soul constricted in his chest change his facial expression.

  
  
Instead of saying anything else, he carefully curled into Edge’s side, sighing as he was surrounded by his scent. The sound of pen against paper was soothing, as well as the rhythmic breathing against his whole body. He had stared dozing off when a hand wrapped around him, covering nearly his whole spine.

  
  
“I know you worry.”

  
  
Rus sighed. “Yeah, I do. Always will.” Because he loved him was left unsaid. He didn’t have to say it. Closing his slitted sockets, he breathed deep.


	63. Honey Glazed Goodness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Fluff, Slice of Life, Platonic Stretch/Blackberry

Jogging up the steps, Rus moved across the wooden porch, listening to the creaks and light groans as he stepped up to the front door. Opening the screen door with a creak of the hinges, he knocked twice, his knuckles smarting from the impact. There was silence, but just as he was about to knock again the door swung open, Blackberry standing just inside with an annoyed (pleased) look on his face.

 

“You’re late!” Damn his voice was energetic, so peppy. Completely different from the sharp teeth he sported. Rus smirked, shrugging.

 

“I don’t wake up until four cups of joe and a good breakfast’s down my throat, bud.”

 

Blackberry rolled his eyes, but gestered for Rus to come inside as he turned, holding the door open. Rus stepped inside, then hopped back out as BB gave him the evil eye, removing his shoes before walking back inside with a sheepish grin. The two of them moved to the kitchen in silence, Rus glancing around the well maintained living room before passing through the doorway. “Twist out and about?”

 

Blackberry grabbed two aprons from the closet, throwing one over a chair as he began tying the other around his waist. “He’s always out right now! He and Edge go to the gym on fridays, they typically stay for at least five hours.” Turning to Rus, he rolled his eyelights. “I think they have some kind of competition as to who can do more bench presses going.”

 

Rus caught the apron tossed his way, chuckling as he pictured the two of them in the gym, surrounded by shouting humans as they pushed themselves as far as they’d go.

 

Turning to the oven, Rus slung his hands in the pockets of the handmade apron. “So what’re we makin’ today?”

 

Blackberry’s eyes lit up as he produced a paper filled with ingredients and instructions. Rus looked it over once, twice, then set it down on the counter. Cracking his knuckles, he grinned. “Lets get goin’ then, shall we?”


	64. Royally Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a little rarepair lol
> 
> Tags: RoyalMoney (StoryShift Pap/Cash), Hurt/Comfort, Mention of Genocide Route and Resetting

Poppy had seen him like this before. Not often, not when his edges were shorn and cracked like broken glass, his magic sparking around him in arcs of electricity that burned at the touch. But he  _ had  _ seen him like this before, on the rare occasion his world had been reset, or, on the even rarer...when his brother had died.

 

It never mattered much, what had happened. Poppy simply tucked his poor lover into his arms and carried him into his home. He often didn’t put him down, not for a good while, even as the magic bit into his bones and the tears began to stain the whites of his robes. He had other robes, his lover’s emotional state was much more important than a piece of cloth. 

 

Cash seemed to be unaware of his surroundings during these times, at least at first. His instincts would take him to the place of safety and comfort, but it wasn’t until the scent of chamomile and cinnamon had really filled his head that he began to come out of his panic. He’d feel around him, eyelights wide and blurry in their sockets, and Poppy would take one of his hands in his own, grounding him further.

 

It was usually then that Cash would weep, for the lost time, for the lost loved ones, for his loss in general. Poppy would hold him through this as well, mixing a cup of tea, steam wafting up as Cash wept into his chest. Eventually he would calm, his tears ceasing to flow and his sniffles slowly easing until he rested, glassy eyed and as calm as an eye of a hurricane. 

 

Poppy would offer the tea, make sure he drank the entire cup, then set him properly at the table, all while keeping a hand in his own. They would talk, not about why he’d come, but about other things. Their favorite books, their favorite movies, the mysteries of life. If Cash ended up in his lap once more, Poppy wouldn’t stop him from it. His dearest one needed the comfort, and had come to him to get it. 

 

Holding a sleeping Cash close to his chest, Poppy stared into the fireplace, hand rhythmically moving in a soft pattern against the other’s back. Leaving a chaste kiss against the top of his skull, Poppy smiled as Cash nuzzled further into his chest. He could help his love gather up the pieces of his life, even if it took the rest of time to do so. 


	65. Aviation Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Fluff, Happiness, Twist being Happy for once, TwistedMoney

Cash tapped his fingertips on the side of the mug he’d found waiting for him in the fridge, the tea inside nice and cool. Perfect, really; Blackberry knew how he liked his tea. Gazing back to the front room, he sighed, the tapping becoming more intense as he tried to not be too impatient. Twist would return in around ten minutes, and he’d want a shower at least before moving on to anything else.

  
  
Sighing again, Cash took a sip of his tea and hoped, not for the first time, that his present would be a good one. Twist had been doing so well recently, and when Cash had found out about today, he knew he had to take him. It should be the perfect present, he’d even bought him a new jacket for the occasion. He just hoped it wouldn’t be seen as a slight against his hobbies.

  
  
The sound of keys in the front door made him sit up in his chair, Twist whistling as he walked into the front room. Cash watched as he did a few post run stretches, then started up the stairs to the bathroom. Five minutes on the dot and he was hopping back down the steps, in new clothes and his favorite jacket, seemingly about to head out for the day. Cash stood, clearing his throat and staring hard when Twist turned to him.

  
  
“Are you busy today?”

  
  
Twist chuckled and stepped closer, kissing the top of his skull and grinning at the violet hue that had taken over Cash’s cheekbones. “Always got time fer you, darlin’. What’d ya want?”

  
  
Cash gave him a glare, then moved to the front room, grabbing the keys to his car and motioning to the front door. “Got a plan. Get in the car.”

  
  
Twist smiled amicably and nodded, moving forward to open the door and step out into the summer heat. Cash took a deep breath, then followed, locking the door behind them. The two of them hopped in the car, Cash ignoring the wiggling brows Twist made as they buckled, instead focusing on finding the directions on his phone. Angling the thing away from Twist, he studied them for a few minutes, ignoring Twist and his resurgence of whistling, before closing the screen and shoving it back in his pocket.

  
  
Pulling out of the driveway and onto the road, they were a good twenty minutes away from the city when Twist finally spoke up, no longer looking at his phone.

  
  
“So where’re we goin’, sweetheart?” The question was innocent enough, but Cash wasn’t entirely sure how to answer without coming off rude and ruining the mood, so he grunted, checking the lanes before pulling into the right side. Twist grinned, nonplussed at the nonresponse, and went back to whatever it was he did on his phone.

  
  
It was a long enough drive, about two hours out of the city and into the desert. He’d had to double check the directions a few times, just to make sure they were taking the right highways, but as soon as the giant ass sign for “Aviation Day!!!” came into view, he figured they were probably in the right place. Twist didn’t see it, luckily, too ingrained in whatever he was doing to look up and around.

  
  
Soon enough the turn off for the airfield came up, Twist finally looking up as the paved highway turned into a rougher, less maintained road. There were already rows and rows of parked cars, a few humans and even a couple fire elementals helping people into parking spots. Cash drove and parked as directed, an unstoppable grin on his face as Twist looked at him with questioning eyelights. Hopping out of the car, he popped the trunk, rushing to the back and grabbing the aviator jacket he’d bought just for today before running back and locking the doors.

  
  
Twist was standing at the front of the car, looking around with confusion clear on his face, the emotion only growing as Cash handed him the jacket. Cash could only grin fiercely, purple eyelight bright in its socket. Twist looked down at the jacket, looked back up at Cash and opened his mouth to ask what the hell was going on, when a roar overtook the air above them, a biplane flying just above them, seemingly doing a few loops before making a lazy turn back towards the air fields.

  
  
Cash glanced at Twist, his grin widening as he took in the other’s expression.

  
  
Twist’s remaining eyelight was overly bright in its socket, large and slightly fuzzy. He was gripping the jacket tightly, his gaze still locked onto the plane that was showing off by performing more loops. Finally he seemed to knock out of his trance, his eye locking onto Cash, who was grinning unabashed.

  
  
“Thought you might like to go to an official Aviation Day. Let’s go see some planes.”

  
  
For a moment, he thought Twist might actually cry. But, after a moment, his face broke into one of the largest smiles he’d ever seen, his hand held out for Cash to take. He did, rolling his eyes fondly as Twist turned back to the plane, grin growing wider. Best decision he’d ever made.

  
  



End file.
